The assassin didn't mind the nuzzle from the Hunter, the woman secretly enjoyed it if she was being honest with herself. When they finally separate enough, she watches Will note the bruise forming across her cheek and the black eye already prominent around her eye socket. When she feels his soft touch across her cheek she eyes the Hunter with a gentle yet cocky smile. "I suppose that's what happens when you get a right hook to the face," she laughs breezily, "It doesn't hurt, I'll be fine," she lies easily. Though she wasn't in as much pain as Will, she could feel the dull throbbing in her face and the last thing she wanted was her Hunter to worry about her. And yes, he was hers. When it had happened she wasn't certain but she realized she had come to care for the British man against her better judgement.

If her Master ever found out she had come to care for someone, especially a Dark Hunter, her life would become a living hell.

Stifling the thought almost immediately she returns her attention back to William. "It's not your fault, it was my mistake not being quick enough," she shrugs casually. "I'm more than happy to save you anytime," she grins wickedly at him. Feeling the brush of his lips again she sighs contentedly into him. "Don't worry about the bathroom Will, it's cleanable," she chastises him gently. As she pulls away to gather her supplies she lets her lip curl up in amusement at his whine at her leaving, "Hunter baby," she coos over we shoulder before leaving and returning with supplies. As she begins to dab at the blood that's already caking to him she can feel his body tense beneath her hands though she's as gentle as she possibly can be.

It's his admittance at wanting to spend time with her that has her pausing before she pours the liquid into his wound. His shuddering body and the sound he makes has Vhalla wincing for him. She can't help but want to apologize to him profusely as she knows she's the one causing him such immense pain. As he braces his hands against the tile floor she gives him a moment to gather himself, as she replays the way he says her name over and over again in her mind. As she begins to bandage the male she's quiet for a moment before clearing her throat, "I shouldn't be with you," she whispers before continuing as she lets her fingers trail across his lean muscle, "The smart thing to do would be to help you recover and drop you off at your home." She pauses her words and her hands still as she finishes the bandage.

"But, I can't do that. No matter how much I try to convince myself to stop seeing you I find it rather impossible. I'm drawn to you in a way I've never been drawn to anyone," she admits her face blushing furiously and she's thankful his back is to her. "It must be that British accent," she laughs weakly. When she helps him stand she can feel him trying to take most of his weight but she yanks on his arm a little more to unsteady him so he's putting more weight around her shoulders. She doesn't mind the feel of him, she rather enjoys it if she were being honest. And when she speaks of her first whipping she can feel his gaze dropping on her face as she glances away from him. Afraid to see what she would see flashing in his features.

His response is rather surprising as she almost sags in relief as she settles him into the bed. Clearing her throat again she crosses her arms as she stands before him, "That's..." she trails off unsure of what to say, rubbing her arms almost self-consciously she forgets about the splatter of blood coating her suit. Dropping her hands to her side she returns her gaze back to Will, her features full of a sudden boil of rage, "I plot his death every single day," she growls, a shiver running down her spine. Speaking ill of her master almost has her choking; the bond doesn't allow her to speak of him in anyway but "love" yet she's able to stretch those limits with Will, "One of these days I will have that killing blow," she says deathly quiet as the rage begins to dull, replaced by sorrow as she admits to Will of her being a monster.

Her name on his lips bring her icy blue eyes back to her Hunter as she moves forward so he can reach out to brush his fingers against her uninjured cheek. The smile that tugs at his lips causes the assassin to raise her brows in surprise, it's his response that has her almost gaping at his words. She's about to argue it's him until she sees something dark cross across his features, shutting her mouth suddenly she's disappointed when his fingers drop from her face. The seriousness in his tone has Vhalla nodding in acceptance as she moves to settle herself next to him, close enough to feel the heat of his skin radiating into her, though not touching.

She's silent the entire time he tells his story her face remaining neutral as he struggles with bits of his story. She's afraid that if she reaches out to touch or interrupt him he won't be able to finish so she sits quietly watching him even when his gaze drops to the bed sheets. When he takes her hand she allows it and returns the gentle squeeze. It was clear it was a part of himself he had never been able to fully accept. When he finally looks at her again that sad smile playing on his lips she's certain he thinks that the assassin would bolt yet she felt no disgust nor any pity towards the history of the Hunter just a dull rage that aches in the pit of her stomach as she stifles it in order to not show Will.

Instead, a wry grin touches her lips, "If you're a monster then I'm a monster," she responds and leans forward to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, a hand raising to brush his hair out of his face. "We have more in common than we initially thought," she says as she pulls away her hand still clasped in his. "I can't control my powers either, though when I lose control a great more many innocents die," she responds the smile falling from herself. She's not quite ready to share her story with him but she can see it on the horizon. Instead she simply wants to see that happiness in her Hunter so she pulls the conversation away from their histories.

"We all make mistakes, Will. That's why there are second chances," she says to him a weak smile toying at her features. Though she doesn't entirely believe it for herself she believes in t for Will. Standing she releases his hand, doing a quick inspection of his bandages again. Satisfied the blood wasn't going to bleed into the white linens she bound him with she takes a step away from him suddenly aware again of the half-naked man sitting in her bed. A sudden blush rises to her cheeks as she looks away hoping to hide I from him. Clearing her throat again she takes another step away turning on a heel, "I'm going to clean myself up real quick," she calls over her shoulder before disappearing behind the low wall of the bathroom.

Sucking in a deep breath she forces the blush to disappear from her face as she begins picking up the bloody towels and the bandages. Disposing of the towels in the garbage she litters the medical equipment across the counter. Glancing in the mirror for the first time she's suddenly aware of just how awful her face truly looked, between the massive black bruise formed on her face and the blood trail from her wound along with the splatter of blood that didn't belong to her. Reaching for the tail end of her braid she gently inspects it, noticing the splatter of blood littering throughout it she gives a small sigh before she removes the hair tie. Slowly unraveling her white hair, she runs her fingers through it briefly before giving it a small shake. She's tempted to wash her face but taking one look at her hair she frowns. Crossing the entryway, she entirely forgets about the Hunter lounging on her bed as she makes her way to the shower.

Reaching behind her, she begins to unzip her suit and before she finishes, she leans down and undoes the laces on her boots. Kicking her shoes off she then slides out of her suit discarding it in practically the doorway clearly visible to Will, if he were looking. Climbing into the shower she turns the nozzle as the rainfall shocks her with its freezing water before it slowly begins to heat. Quickly massaging her hair, she tilts her head back and lets the water take away any trace of blood left on her. The water stings brutally on her open wound but she lets the heat work out any infection. Sighing in relief at her now clean feeling body, she shuts the shower off reaching for a towel to pat down her wet hair, and another to wrap around her form.

Freezing suddenly, she realizes her mistake that she hasn't brought any clothing into the bathroom. Releasing a string of vulgar words under her breath she paces in the shower for a moment before making up her mind and marching out into the bedroom attempting to ignore Will as she makes her way to her dresser, her back to him. The assassin wasn't going to attempt to hide the brutal lashings on her back, though her wet hair covers most of it, some scars peak out between the strands. Rummaging through her dresser she retrieves clothing and enters her closest firmly shutting the door behind her. Releasing her breath, she quickly changes and exits bringing the towel with her to begging the long process of towel drying her hair.

Avoiding Will's gaze, she returns to her previous position at his side as she hums quietly under her breath patting down her hair. "I needed to get the blood off," she responds in a way of apology. "By the way, the bathroom is clean now. No more blood," she lets her icy gaze travel to his face once more, a wry grin toying at her features, "No need to apologize."