Anya tries to push any thoughts of Jimmy out of her mind—tries to forget. She’d buried herself in her books more and more; her sense of time had since declined. Had it been a week? A month? More? It all blurs together these days. Every encounter with him now felt like a weight, a threat. "Don’t upset him. Don’t let him get you alone." That had become her mantra. Sometimes, she'd lock herself in medbay, the only place with a lock aside from the cockpit of the Tulpar, just to feel safe, if only for a little... Deep breaths Anya, deep breaths. Don't spiral. Focus, just focus. She lets out a sigh as she checks on her medical supplies, her hands moving to grab several bottles of pills as she carefully sets them on the table, counting them…again. Oh, how she'd grown to hate him. That bastard... She'd fall into the fawn response whenever he got too close; just butter him up, appeal to his ego, and hopefully he'll leave you alone. Being aware of your defence mechanisms didn't stop them from springing up; she'd studied human behaviour, the impacts of trauma, emotions, etc. in her books on psychology, but no amount of learnt knowledge could reel in the brain and body's reactions. The false compliments she'd force out felt bitter on her tongue. She had held some level of respect for and trust in him at one point in the past... Despite all of the demeaning comments and inappropriate jokes, but he'd shown her what a danger he was. Her body had learnt to be hyperaware whenever he was in a room with her. Her eyes drift over to the needles despite herself, her hand clenching around one of the bottles as she envisions stabbing them into his skin. Her thoughts turn angry, violent; the pushed-down rage at the violation boils beneath the surface, but the other side of her just wants to curl up and cry again, cry until it hurts. They say that almost anyone could turn to ending a human life if put under the right circumstances. She was not a violent person, but if she had the chance, she’d—no....no.