She winced at his tone, curling up tighter. How was she supposed to do that when he kept sounding like that? "I'm sorry," she said, biting her lip so hard she could feel her teeth meet. This was why she shouldn't try protesting or arguing - it wasn't worth it. "I'll keep trying." Somehow.
Need him? She didn't need him - she needed him out of her life, things were nearly normal until she started hearing things again. As normal as Bellum could be at any rate. Lotte shook her head, moving to get up from the bed. It squeaked under her but she stood as a distraction and a way to buy time.
Lotte bit her lip for a moment more. She didn't understand why she had to pick - any ideas were tossed aside as quickly as they came to mind. Even if he was her subconscious there wasn't any way to deny who he sounded like. Her own past enjoyment was ignored, in case of criticism. (Her own?) Several minutes passed before she remembered a day when she was little with her father, after they'd sold their truck. It had been cold and the only thing they carried with them had been his violin case - she shook her head, trying not to tear up. Though she'd shivered, her father had dragged her along with a song, ending with puddle jumping and silliness. The kind only Gene Kelly could inspire.
She cleared her throat, before singing softly. "Doo-dee-loo-doo-doo-doo, doo-dee-loo-doo-doo-doo-" It was still a bit hesitant, but she got stronger as she kept singing - starting, usually was the hard part. Though she fell silent at the main "dance" break, she hummed the rest of the tune despite herself, a wistful smile crossing her face.