It would have been something that made most girls blush, that fact that she had a friend, a companion, who knew her well enough to know her looks, her body language. But she didn't want to be brayed before she herself could reveal what she saw in his head. It was like trying to watch a telly stuck on fast-forward, or rewind, moving fast and flashing images and flooding her in every way she didn't want to be. Seeing things she was having a hard time stomaching. She 'dropped' her blades and clutched at her stomach, tears silently treading their way along her cheeks and her breathing turning heavy. "You...you couldn't have. Tell me you're still being a git and trying to brass me off."
She was still tearing at her outfit, clawing at her stomach, moving in a slow almost sway from one foot to the other. It was too much in one night; the accusations, the lies, the promise breaking, the half-truths, the hiding, the anger, the fight. "When did she get here?" Alright, so technically she probably would have known had she paid attention to the mental ding that sounded when a fellow mutant arrived in the city, but lately her thoughts swirled around her boys or trying to help Sam.