*wearily* There was a time...I did? I guess? *doesn't explain; doesn't expect you to understand if she did (it's kind of nice, being wanted without restraint)* *looks at you blankly* But it's a little insulting that you'd ask me that now, after what I just said to you. He's a smug bastard. He thinks it's all a joke now. He thinks it's enough to pursue me, to flatter me that I'm the only one. (He knows nothing of tenderness.)
Or maybe until you kick me out.
*gets to her feet slowly, stretching, and walks to the front door, though her heart does flutter a little in her chest (my? hero)* *resting her forehead and her hands against the door, as if trying to find the strength to open it* I don't want to kick you out. I just don't want to talk about this anymore.