The fall had caused his ribs and elbow to explode with pain. Hissing, Faustus struggled to see what had just darted over them. Once he saw, he paled slightly: it was a bench from outside, one that he and countless other patrons of the Resort had sat on at one point or another. The bench was nowhere near usable now, as it had embedded itself into the wall opposite them. He quickly looked down at Miss Skovgaard, his eyes wide and already searching her for any sign of injury.

For the second time that night, he saw his own emotions reflected back at him. Her own eyes were large and slightly stunned; presumably at what had just happened, though Faustus had his own reasons to not trust his racing thoughts just now. Through the shock and over the wind, he managed to hear her and he nodded wordlessly as her hand rested gently on the side of his cheek.

That one touch brought him back enough to realize exactly what a compromising position they were in, and he caught her hand in his own. "Please —" He started, though lost the words on his tongue.

"Are - are you alright?" He began again, breathing hard to keep his voice steady. Any attempt to survey her for injuries was made futile by the fact that she was already coated in Mr. Thompsett's blood —

Mr. Thompsett. Yes, that's what they were doing here - what they were in search of for him. He rose his gaze back to her own, blinking as he was brought back to their purpose. He quickly averted his gaze. “Forgive me.” He said quietly, drawing back to give her room, regardless of the fact that they were both entangled on the floor in near darkness. Even someone walking by wouldn’t have seen them unless they were somehow unaffected by the hurricane blowing outside.

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