The protectiveness rising in the slayer unsettled her but not because she didn't appreciate it. That portion was comforting in its own right but she feared this would all change with the truth revealed. Why was she so petrified? Because at times the slayer was still unpredictable. On top of that her own fears had run off with her and due to recent...activities paranoia was left unchecked. It had taken most of the night and part of the morning to separate fact from fiction and now the clutter was returning like a fog over her mind. Soon the man's voice faded into the chattering background along with his presence and she swallowed hard with nothing remaining to stare at but the wooden table.
She'd already revealed too much. What was the point of continuing to stall? The tightening of fingers on her own was realized, though delayed for a period and eyes darted from side to side. "They. . ." she trembled, eyes raising to meet her lover's. She could be a coward and hide everything all the time. Especially not when it mattered most, like now. Crystalline mirrors appeared on the verge of shattering, voice broken and wavering and she confessed, "made me a demon." Vulnerable, she lay exposed for the first time in the span of their relationship and if the slayer so desired she might very well break the weakened redhead.