[ she lets go of his wrist, after a moment. just so she doesn't scare him, so she doesn't come off as too aggressive. she always does, she knows it, and most times it's on purpose. a big, scary dog, growling at strangers, only charming when she wants to be. vander used to say - you endear people more to you when you put on a smile and shut the fuck up, and she's always struggled with that.

she shoves her hands into her pockets. listening, always listening. and when he's finished, she exhales in a rush, head tilted down, eyes on him, the way an animal might when they're trying to figure out if they want to lean into the hand, or bite it.

it's just really hard to think he's lying. that's all. he reeks of sincerity. recognition, maybe, two people who don't hesitate in how they feel. ]

I get your drift. [ she says, a little quietly, still watching, and then her shoulders ease just a bit. ]

You know - they say in Stillwater that putting your back to someone is a death sentence. Kind of how I've been looking at things, lately. People are so eager to wring you out to dry for just a little push more.

[ a beat, and she turns just enough to reach for her drink across the bar. gives him a pretty good look at her back, lets him see her with her guard down. ]

I don't think you're that way at all. [ she says, when she comes back to face him. ] And I don't hate that.

... I won't let you down.