The doors closed and Squall sighed to himself. He was left alone in the car as it traveled up to the third floor. He let himself out and moved down the hallway to let himself into his room, stripping the shirt and tossing it to the hamper on the way to the bathroom.

Squall did exactly as she wanted to do herself- he stood beneath the scalding stream from the shower head, letting the water wash away the blood first before he worked to scrub the grim free.

At least she accepted the apology; he wasn't one to just apologize most of the time. But that still didn't stop him from feeling like a complete and utter jackass.