A cardigan. Again. Thursday forced a painfully sunny smile at her nurse before scowling down at the offending article of clothing once said nurse was out of sight. Just because she looked a bit older than most of the patients here didn't mean they had to treat her like a bloody senior citizen.

At least the soft blue sleeves concealed the burn marks on the backs of her arms, carefully treated and bandaged by GSD-knew-whom. She winced a bit as she picked up her breakfast, but the pain was bearable. It probably wouldn't prove much of a hindrance today.

She stepped onto the bus, glancing around for an empty seat, and spotted one next to a quiet-looking young man who looked to be about Friday's age, perhaps a bit older. She smiled slightly - this one considerably more genuine than the one she had given the nurse.

"Excuse me - is this seat taken?"