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"Shut the fuck up," she snapped, louder than she intended, but she owned it with the curl of her upper lip, a taught frown as she wiped drying mud onto a tree. "I need to go back to my dorm and clean up. And maybe to the infirmary; my hands are scuffed." It was true; her skin was torn at the lower palms, and tiny dots of red were welling in the epicenters of her wounds. "Come with me, I can't use a key like this, let alone fumble around in my bag for it. You can wash up after me." It wouldn't be her first suggestion, but her palms throbbed with a sharp burn, and she wanted nothing more than to get in her dorm without a big deal. Most of all, she didn't want anyone to see her, to look at her dirty and miserable and alone and inquire what happened. At least with Liam, it was a group's affair.

She turned, hands raised like she was caught at gunpoint, and began walking to the campus.

At that point, he was learning when to expect her sudden backlash. Her snappy comment didn't startle him and he focused on wiping off whatever clumps of mud off of him that he could manage. Shit, he would've happily burned his clothes and jumped into his own shower. She didn't seem like the type of girl to take a guy home for long for any reason, but just like that, she was already walking off - her mind made. Liam decided it was easier to just do as she said, wiping his hands off the front of his pants and following after her - admiring the strange way she chose to walk.

They made it to her dorm building rather quickly, which was not far from Liam's. Nevertheless, Maisie did not look back once to make sure he was following, almost as if she assumed he would follow. Or rather, she wanted it to seem like she didn't care if he came or not, a sentiment she tried to make even herself believe, but her palms were bleeding and she needed help getting in; it was a lot easier for someone else to do it for her. She stopped at the door to the autumn dorms, and finally looked back, expecting Liam to open it.

It was some sort of blessing that nobody who has known either of them had seen them around on their trek to the dorm rooms. Finally, without making too much of a mess it seemed, they found their selves at the door to her rooms. Liam shared her look before stepping ahead, grabbing the knob and swinging it open rather carelessly, standing aside to let the girl in. "Your roommates won't mind me over?" He asked dully.

"I don't care what they think," Maisie said, walking past without so much as a 'thank you.' She began to ascend the stairs, continuing to talk but keeping her face forward. "They bring in enough people on their own." The dorm 406 was on the first floor, and they arrived pretty quickly. Maisie avoided the eyes of a passerby couple, noticing their glances as they saw two people covered in mud. She quietly thrust her bag in Liam's direction. "Get my key out, it's in the front compartment somewhere."

That was all good and well of Maisie, but he wasn't in the mood for hearing it if her roommates had decided to start raising hell over having someone else over. There were few he knew like that, so he didn't linger on the thought long, gazing around the Autumn dorms. He hadn't been in the area since that one girl's party the night they'd met. Paying no mind to the couple passing by, he caught the bag, narrowly avoiding any muddy spots that remained on his clothes.

Quietly, as she said, he began to shuffle through the front pocket of her bag, feeling out her keys and attempting to pull them out. They were snagged between the bag and some sort of book. He yanked both out at once, grabbing the keys with one hand and holding the book over, her bag tucked neatly under his arm. "Now, what's this?" He mused, turning it over in his hands. There were a bunch of drawings of girls on the cover with big eyes and frilly outfits.

Maisie's face tightened as she clenched her teeth. He found that book. She forgot about that book. Her face grew to match the color of a ripe tomato, as her anger did in red fury. "I told you to get the key! Put that away!" It seemed that the idea of being surreptitious was foiled as she shouted at him. The couple that had passed them originally looked back for a moment and began to whisper to each other, descending down the stairs on mumbles. Maisie didn't seem to notice. She brought her foot up and kicked him in the shin. "Open the door, asshole!"

Liam swore he had never seen anyone's face turn such a shade of red so incredibly fast. As she started to yell at him, he was already shoving the book back in the bag, a hint of a smile turning at the corner of his mouth. "Alright, I heard you." He muttered. Not that he cared that people looked, but it wasn't pleasant being screamed at. "I didn't know you were into that Japanese ah-knee-may-" Just as he was starting to sort out the keys, her foot met cruelly with his shin.

"What the hell was that for?!" He hissed through his teeth, hurrying and getting the door open already.

Maisie opened the door with her shoulder, not answering his hissed retort. It seemed they both were a bit tired of each other; or maybe not. She brought him up to her room, after all. He accepted it. "I'm taking a shower," she announced, not even looking back, leaving him on his own as if it were his dorm too. She appeared moments later holding a bundle of clothes and towels gingerly, balancing them on her wrists with outstretched arms as her red palms faced the ceiling. As soon as she appeared, she was gone once more.

The young man stepped inside, shutting the door behind him and watching with low-lit eyes as she left for fresh clothes and towels, balancing them on her wrists like it was all but an act then disappearing to wherever she planned to hide in the shower. He was left alone, still filthy, without any spare clothes for himself, or something to wipe up with. 'What a generous host,' Liam thought to himself blandly. If he was smart, he probably would have left for his own room then and there, but that seemed like even more trouble than it was worth.

He pulled off his tie, tossing it on the back of the couch. His shirt came next, bundled up somewhat carefully so that all the mud on the backside wouldn't go spilling everywhere. It might have seemed somewhat indecent if someone decided to walk in, but hell - he didn't care. It would be Maisie's own fault for not leaving him with nothing. For a brief moment, he imagined her climbing into a warm shower with a small frown.

Letting himself get distracted, he found his way to the kitchen sink, running his hands under the cool water and washing the mud away.

Maisie was in the bathroom for fifteen minutes, cleaning herself and calming herself down. She thought hard about his finding her manga, and shut her eyes in embarrassment. She'd smack herself in the face if her hands weren't scuffed. What would he say about that? Hopefully nothing. Every time he'd bring it up she'd ignore or kick him; what deal did he have going through her stuff when she gave him clear directions to the key? What an asshole. Fucking asshole.

By the time she got out of the shower, most of the resonant sting in her palms subsided, though they were purplish red in the lower part of her hands and hurt when she applied pressure. At least they were clean. She was scared of infection, of waking up to find them blackened and swollen. Did that kind of injury swell?

Fifteen minutes after she walked into the bathroom, she walked out wearing an old concert T-shirt and shorts, carrying a bundle of wet towels and clothes. "You're turn." There wasn't as much venom in her voice as when she came in, but she still gave him something of a curt cold shoulder, disappearing into her room without another word to dispose of what was in her hands.

It would have strike him as a little funny if he knew what she was still fuming about by the time she'd made her reappearance. His mind had already left the thought of her mango-book behind him, just relieved that he was able to get off what mud that he could. It was something worth remembering later on, though. He couldn't quite see what the big deal was. Maisie really did make no sense to him.

Before he could bother to say one word to her, again, she was already gone. He thought to ask her for a few fresh towels, or a shirt, or hell - something. She had to have some sort of roommate she could have snuck a few clothes from. Instead of heading straight into the bathroom, he followed after her to her room, pausing in the doorway. "And change into what? You have a dress I could borrow?" He asked lowly, leaning against the frame.

Liam paused, noticing the strange way she still balanced the fabric on her arms, away from her stiff hands. "What happened?"

Maisie looked back at him unenthused. Oh, so he followed her? Granted, he did have a point: he didn't have any clothes to change into. She just kinda figured he'd be fine putting on his old clothes; they weren't that bad. "I live with all girls. I could give you something of mine." She sighed and made her way over to her closet. Opening it, she perused what of hers would be gender neutral; the one she had one would be ideal, and she wished she'd thought of him before she chose it. Nevertheless, she found an old T-shirt she got from her mom, one with the Disneyworld insignia from a trip she went on the last time her dad came home. He bought it for her when her luggage went to the wrong airport. It was a size too big.

"See if that fits." She threw it in the general direction of his face, and seconds later some pajama pants. "If those don't fit, just use your old pants. I don't think they look that dirty."

She wasn't the one who hit the muddied ground first, nor did he have anything to to try and cushion his own landing. There were still bits of mud died onto his lowerback, and he hated to imagine how his pants had turned out. Liam held back an exasperated sigh as she announced it was an all girls dormitory, Hell only knew what the odds if that were, and he stared down at the fresh change of clothes. Whatever. It would have to do, he supposed.

He grabbed his new, borrowed belongings and found his way to the bathroom, kicking the hot water so high it turned the room into a sauna. There were hairsprays, fruity shampoos, an abundance of bobby pins, all those "pretty" things one would expect to find in a girl's bathroom. Not that he cared that much. He just wanted to get clean.

By the time he had found his way out, he smelled of citrus and roses... literally. The shirt Maisie had given him was still a bit too tight and her pajamas went high past his ankles. "I must look stupid," He muttered. The mirror was so fogged up, he hasn't gotten a peak at his new look.

Suddenly, muddied up clothes didn't seem so bad anymore.

Maisie was steadfast on keeping something of a cold facade. She wanted him to leave knowing that going through her stuff like that made her pissed off at him, knowing that if he ever brought that kind of shit up she wouldn't even humor him with any benevolence. But the girl had gotten some water at the small kitchen unit as he took his shower, leaning against the island counter and looking across the living room. When he exited, she blinked a little, and tried to hold her serious facade. You're angry, Maisie. You're angry. However, the corners of her mouth couldn't help but elevate themselves in a tight smirk, and before she knew it, she found herself giggling silently, covering her mouth in an attempt to keep some kind of inconspicuous grasp on her solemnity, as well as the water that was still in her mouth from her last sip of the glass. He just looked so stupid.