She could have easily pulled out of his grasp, but instead she allowed him to stop her. Hadn't she just promised that she wouldn't run out on him anymore? And yet, here she was, not even ten minutes later, trying to run away again as though her life depended on it. For all she knew, it did. The trouble was that at some point he was going to get tired of chasing after her, or waiting for her to come back, and what would she do then? Hadn't the past week proven that staying away from him wasn't good for her? Oddly, she wished she could talk to Sam about it. Not the Sam she knew here in town, the proper one. The one she'd bared her soul to when she'd known she was about to die. The one who could actually relate.
The comfortable haze brought on by inebriation had almost completely dissipated, leaving her completely exhausted and just a touch headachey. She desperately wanted to lay down and let her body rest, maybe even pass out. It was difficult for a demon to get to that point of drunkenness, but at the moment she felt like she could sleep for a week. Her mind supplied her with a lovely image of the two of them, curled up together in his bed, her back against his chest and her head resting on his outstretched arm. She relaxed a tiny bit. His touch had a soothing effect on her, no matter how small. He was the only gentleness in her life and she craved him.
Her expression was a mask of indecision, and she refused to look at him. She knew if she met his eyes, she'd give in.
"Don't you get it?" she asked, quietly. "You can't know that. You were never supposed to know that." She didn't know how to explain it to him. How could she put into words how vulnerable she was now? Knowing she loved him gave him access to power over her that he hadn't known he possessed. If he'd spurned her before, she could have dealt with it and remained strong. If he cast her aside now, however, he would be doing it with full knowledge of just how much he hurt her. Being forced into such a weak position...that she couldn't deal with.