A stubborn part of her wanted to provide for him a negligent and immature 'maybe.' because she hadn't quite put the puzzle together that quickly. She was feeling tired and her head throbbed, pounded, rattled the temples something awful. It looked as if the question either confused or disoriented her for a moment, with her mouth agape, her eyes searchingly trying to figure out what he meant by asking that. How did he know where she lived? "Yes." She'd finally said; the magic word for her putting a few of those aforementioned pieces together. She was never dishonest. She was also surprisingly clever despite her lack of looking it.
The mug was put onto a nearby surface. Although she was thirsty, very much so, she didn't want any tea just yet. It was hard for her, knowing it was rude to not take a sip, but she was beginning to feel ill. Evidently, rocky road ice cream, what Lily had eaten prior to nightfall, and the blood that Lucy had consumed, was a caustic cocktail.
"This is 307. Isn't it?" A little dizzy, she rested her elbow on something, consequently to rest her head thoughtlessly, yet thankfully not on the bruised side. "I guess you know a lot about me." She amended, shutting her eyes. "... the bad stuff. She hates him too, you know. Dracula. She just can't help but be his slave... she doesn't want to be. I don't want to be."