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Her mouth snapped shut and she glared at him, all stubbornness and childish pouts. "But I'm not you, am I Mr. Grace?" She reached out and took a shrimp herself, taking her sweet time chewing it before saying another word.

"Of course I'm upset. I simply deal with these things differently. I always knew I was the odd man out. This development comes as no surprise. "

The shrimp were not appealing to her anymore. She ate another one. "I don't know what's going to happen. I didn't see myself lasting long enough to care. It's too hard to think about. Can't you go back to telling me how I look like a Barbie?"

Maebe was up off of the floor as quick as lightning, her body tensed and poised to strike. She'd been this way before with him, but it hadn't ended well. She tried not to make the same mistake twice.

"Don't talk about them that way." She hissed out through clenched teeth. "They are not dumb. Just." Just what? Otto had no idea what he wanted and Cami was coddling. What could she really say about their relationship, anymore?

She sagged, but remained seated. "Confused." She finally finished in resignation. "We all are. I don't know what's right or wrong anymore. Don't know what's up and what's down. But I never did, it was just easier to make believe before all of this." She felt so tired again. In response, she grabbed for his drink.

Was she moving on? It certainly didn't feel like it. "Life was better before love." She informed the straw, right before sucking on it.

"I've never known what I wanted." She muttered, staring at the wings with disdain. "I don't think I've ever really known my entire life. But that's the problem, isn't it? None of us know what we want." She turned back to the forgotten burger; it had grown cold, soggy, unappetizing.

Pin the butterfly at the height of its beauty, Lawr had said.

"Do you know a lot about love, Mr. Grace?" Her voice had caught that soft lilt of sharpness again as she watched him eat, transfixed. "You seem to have a lot of advice. I'm curious where it all comes from. After all, you know quite a bit about me by now, wouldn't you say it's time to return the favor?"

"Something safe and something good." Maebe repeated, her voice dripping with amusement. "As far as I'm aware, that doesn't exist when it comes to love." She finally pulled her eyes away from him, and rolled onto her back to stare at the ceiling. "But if it did, I'd want it, too." She wished there was such a phenomenon as safe, good love. But love was raw and frightening and painful. Love was jumping into ice cold water. Love had never felt safe and good to her.

"It's a nice thought."

Maebe opened her mouth to inform him that she loved herself more than anyone could ever love her - or themselves - but before a single word came out, she shut it again. Could she really say that, anymore? She'd forgotten what it felt like to be so sure of herself. Selfishness no longer meant self-love, even though it had not so long ago. Everything had been clearer, before Deus. Before love.

"And do you love yourself, Mr. Grace?" She countered, turning the tables on him when she found she couldn't answer the question herself. "Because I keep hearing a lot of things out of your mouth that indicate otherwise. If you loved yourself, you'd realize just how beautiful you are. And how, when others look at you, they see something good." Her lips smirked to one side. "And safe. So the question is, if you're going to give such fantastic advice to someone you claim as - " She rolled her eyes. "A [ifriend, then perhaps you should take a taste of your own medicine. Who knows; you might even enjoy it."

The question filled Maebe with enough determination to stop lying there like a rug, and she sat back up, reached for a shrimp, and put it in her mouth. She was taking her time, because even if she was about to tell him the truth, she was going to be predictably bratty about it. She pulled the shrimp off of it's tail, and chewed slowly.

Finally, after no less than thirty seconds of delay, she smiled. It was striking in its unfamiliar place on her expression, never quite at home there against her features. "I don't need to say things to make a point. And even if I did, I don't have a reason to. Making you believe in yourself nets me nothing. In fact, it probably dissuades you even further from wanting what I want. All that considered, lying for the sake of lying would be simply exhausting. I don't make a habit of it. I only lie to get what I want."

She picked up another shrimp, and put it near her mouth as if she was going to stop there, and never actually answer his question. Her lips parted, but she stopped. Her eyes had never actually left his, as usual. "Yes." She finally conceded. "I really think that. And I'm sure I'm not the only one. The question is, when are you going to believe it for yourself?"

The shrimp went in her mouth, tail and all. When she pulled it back out, it was nothing but the shell of tail, devoid of meat even within it. And that was how to really eat a shrimp.

He made a point, and she did not like that she had to give it to him. Dawson's self-belittlement came in the form of jokes, for the most part. It would be difficult to say the same for her. She hated him a little for figuring out a way to win the argument, and flicked the tail shell at his head in retaliation.

"Fine. Excuse me if I don't have a sense of humor so refined as yours. Can't win them all, I guess."

She wrapped up the forgotten cheeseburger, in order to keep its stench away from her. Then she returned to the fries with gusto, her appetite slowing returning. "So you believe me." She murmured, between shoves of fries. "When I tell you that you're beautiful?"

That was the wrong thing to say, Dawson.

Maebe put down the fries and brushed crumbs off of her body, before standing in a graceful move that had her moving before she was fully on her feet. She stood behind him, pressing her knees against his back to let him know she was there - and to keep him where he was. Then, she took off his hat, and waited for the inevitable complaining to begin.

"Beauty," Maebe's voice was sharp, ringing through the air to silence anything he might have said, even as she took the hat and pressed it against his mouth before letting it go to fall where it may. "Is what you see when you look in the mirror, or in someone's eyes. It's the moment of freedom when you're actually happy, or when you're truly sad." Her hands were in his hair, running through it rampantly to try and find the perfect spots to split apart for braids. She could tell he'd touched it with greasy fingers, and bit her lip to keep from laughing. "It's the sound of actual laughter. It's the warmth that a soft, nude body emanates against another. Skin on skin. Breath against your ear. It's.. the way you look when you reach out your hand, your heart, your care, to someone in need. It's who you really are, inside - radiating through your pores into something visual - if people are looking hard enough."

Her fingers were experts, flicking casually and braiding his hair into sections that would leave him looking like he'd just come from a tropical vacation.

"Beauty is what you see when you're looking at someone. Really looking. And not many people really look, nowadays." She bent in, and kissed the top of his ear. But really, it was just a ploy to give her the chance to whisper into it. "And that's why I get away with so many people liking me."

She grinned wide as she stood back up, and continued to braid his long, dangly, greasy hair. Once braided, it just looked shiny and healthy, pretty long braids running down his scalp.

But he, of course, would look ridiculous in them.