Her lips were stitched and sealed; she'd admit to or deny nothing. When the spectre slid around to face him, unwittingly she grinned. There was a hue of grayscale in her inner-turmoils of a galloping heart, accelerating adrenaline, shaky intoxication, churning stomach, coloring her vision a rich velvety red. Knocking around hollow noises. Wind chimes. Desirous wonders curious what this one looked like without skin... just a skeleton to thrill her fingers in.
"Not me."
And she pushed off of the wall all languidly embellished posture, swimming in a sea of ornaments, a disgraceful ballerina, zig-zagging homeward bound.