[She looks around them when his voice rises, the blush deepening as she leans in closer, hoping he will keep it down. Leave it to Oliver to be so honest. She bites back the anger rising in her throat at his forwardness. How can he say all of this without any hesitation? Without any regard for the public atmosphere? She should have asked him to meet her somewhere more private. She hadn't meant to cause such a commotion. In fact, she had thought her inquisitions were fair, if not at least sound.
But that doesn't change the fact that his frankness for his feelings about her makes her feel nervous, flustered, and causes her gaze to lower to her lap.]
You are a fool. [Her tone is soft, and a bit more wounded than she would have liked.] Regardless of whether I am attracted to you or not, wouldn't you prefer that such things be demonstrated without the influence of wine? It never would have happened had I not drank so much. Do you really think what happened between us did so genuinely?
[She scoffs, laughing to fill in the silence. Cornelia doesn't know whether or not it would have happened under normal circumstances, but she knows things would not have escalated as they had. She is not accustomed to physical intimacy. A situation like that has never presented itself to her before that day, and if it was to happen at any point in her life, she would have preferred that alcohol had nothing to do with it.
She doesn't know how to address the other stuff. Even if his intentions appear to be good, trusting him requires more than just words and a few isolated incidents spent together. Her prejudices and cynicism runs deep. Even if he makes her nervous. Even if she thinks about him more than she should. Even if she sometimes allows herself to enjoy his company. All she knows how to do is push people away.]