Yes, she was foolish, though, she would hardly call herself brave by any means, Miya finding herself in situations that no one should find themselves in ever and yet, she managed to find herself in it multiple times. The petite woman knew she had a fight response when she should have a flight response instead, Miya hardly able to hurt anything more than a fly! It was an instinctive reaction she had allows had, and she supposed she had never tried to change it. Though, she was entirely aware, the moment she got home, the fight would drain from her and she would cry herself the sleep, the aftershock would merely come later, something she wasn't entirely looking forward to but for now, she pushes it to the back of her mind and instead focuses on the stranger's delicious... er... nice voice. Boy, she must be in shock if she was thinking random thoughts about a stranger... a mean stranger at that. The thought almost has her pouting, but he continues to speak to her and it's swept away in a flash.

He finally relents and she lets her anger drop away as she beams up at him, happy she had won this round. Within a span of a minute or two, she manages to demand his name, apologize for demanding his name, blush and simply offer her's instead. Miya had never been good with words, especially around men, they simply made her nervous. She doesn't even respond back to the man's question about her walking, her brain to wrapped up in her own world and if she had answered him, she'd be lying through her teeth, she couldn't walk... not by herself. But she would crawl home if she needed to, hail a cab, do something. She was not going to the hospital and Miya knew if she had explained her reasoning to this man he wouldn't understand how mortified she would be and she had a sneaking suspicion he'd make her go if he knew why, so she doesn't answer and instead stumbles through her words, her cheeks tinged with the barest of pinks.

She's saved by the the flash of headlights down the road, Miya merely hopping at the chance to divert her embarrassment as she asks about it, the stranger announcing that it was, in fact, his driver. She sways on her feet and the man is immediately there, his hands steadying her small frame as the car pulls closer. His voice has Miya blinking up at him, he was rather... polite when he wanted to be and yet, she hardly has a chance to comment on it before he scoops her up. Her body is tense and she's very nearly ready to demand he put her down but he's there, speaking again and she's momentarily distracted by her predicament, his voice had taken on a much gentler tone and she wasn't quite prepared for that, instead, she lets the edge of her mouth curl up into a small smile, her petite shoulders giving a shrug. Unsure of where to put her hands, she simply rests them in her lap and it's then that she realizes how very cold she had become. The heat radiating off of Oliver slowly begins to soak into her bones and she can't help but slouch a bit more into his arms, she can almost feel her eye lids getting heavier but she snaps to attention when the car finally pulls along side of them and an elderly man steps out.

Giving the driver a small, shy smile, she entirely forgets she's in Oliver's arms and she bows her head slightly, "Hi Edgar," she murmurs, "I live in Hawethorne Village... the smaller apartment complex," she pauses, embarrassed to be telling these men she lived in such a rundown space. Blushing once more, she turns her chocolate gaze away from the older man to study her hands, grateful it was dark enough to not see the dried blood along her fingers. It's the last statement that has her snapping her head up to him, her eyes glowering fiercely at him again as she fights the urge to reach up and pinch his cheek, though the snapping motion doesn't feel terribly good on her head, she can't hide the wince that flits across her features. "I said I was fine, I just need some rest and to take something. A bath will put me back in tip top shape," she snaps at him, her arms folding over her chest as she glares up at him, that lower lip of hers subtly jutted out in a pouting fashion. It's Edgar's question that has her feeling guilty, her eyes softening slightly as Oliver looks at her, as if he were urging her to answer the question.

Sighing, she unfolds her arms and looks over at the elderly man, "I'm fine, thank you, I'm just a little sore. This big buffoon thinks he knows what's best though," she can't help but keep the heat from her words as her eyes snap back to Oliver, though her gaze doesn't really hold that much fire. The more she thought about it, the more amusing she found the entire situation, to the point she couldn't help but release the quietest of giggles, and perhaps it was tinged with the slightest of hysteria, "This is basically the story of my life," she states before trailing off, another sigh heaving through her chest. "Can you please take me home now?" She asks, a weariness she hadn't felt before beginning to creep through her body.

Miyako Aiken