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It always started out as some nice, flattering statement and then some sort of let down. This was not something she was unused to... in fact, she had given this same sort of sorry excuse when she ravaged a few unsuspecting men during her monthy youkai phase and they woke to find her a different person the fourth day. She imagined the look on her face conveyed that she thought it was a lame excuse, despite the emotion he might have behind it.

Sighing, she shook her head. "You've said this much already, and I don't know what you want from me. Do you want me to agree and nod my head and for everything to be all right? That's like telling a grieving widow that her husband's in a better place and she should feel better. Her feelings won't change. Nothing will change. You can tell me all you like about how horrible a person you are, but not only do I think it's bullshit, it doesn't change anything."

Looking away, eye twitching a little in iritation, she pretended that suddenly she was entranced by the beauty of the curtain that seperated off the other room.

She suddenly stood, brushing herself off and straightening out her shirt and skirt where there had been rumples. Finding his last statement so absurd she couldn't think of a kind reply, she busied herself while she calmed herself. She knew she was emotional, and didn't want this to erupt into some tantrum and consequently an outburst, possibly, of powers if she wasn't careful.

"Well if you don't do relationships, I don't want you to do anything." Her anger, just as suddenly as it rose, was a tide washing away as some quiet, emotional fatigue rolled it. Her voice became weary. "Why do you even ask? You've resolved to yourself, already. Yes, I've been left twice, and had a third die on me. I suppose I could claim I don't do relationships as well... and plus I turn into a female version of a tomcat three days a month. Maybe I should follow your advice and resign myself that, because of the nature of what I am and my past that I am also so incapable." Finding nothing else she could think of saying she calmly walked towards the kitchen with a certain weariness.

She had been reaching for a glass so as to get herself a cold drink to cool her physically in the heat and emotionally when he spoke. In surprise she fumbled and the glass slipped out of her hand, and as she reached to catch it, it rolled right off her other hand and onto the floor. @__@;;; Smoooth. Casanova must be boiling with envy right about now.

>> Okay, calm. Breathe. As an instant replay wound through her mind she tried to assure herself that she heard right. Ever the skeptic, she wondered if this was some sort of cruel joke or maybe some idea of a birthday gift. She wanted sincerity. How could she be sure he was sincere? Gods, maybe she was going insane.

"Eh... I should... clean this up." She suddenly busied herself with inching around on the floor picking up the tiny shards of glass. It was easier to talk to him when she didn't have to look him in the face. "You're not just trying to be nice because it's my birthday, are you?" In case it was, the glass would make an excellant stabbing weapon, and at this crouched height she could take out his kneecaps.

She stood, now not having anything to busy herself with as he went to sweep away the pieces... and he had said something about not wanting her to run away. Fidgeting nervously, she forgot to thank him for wishing her a happy birthday as the thought turned over a few times at the notion of being in a relationship.

What should she do? This weird... weren't men supposed to be foreceful and take charge and state everything simply? This wasn't fair... it felt like he was being way too coy and submissive. Besides, she was bad at decisions. Obviously.

Maybe... she should wait for him to say something. Yes! Once he cleaned up the glass, he'd have to say something since he was the one who wanted to talk in the first place. Right?

Okay, so the plan failed. Now he was just staring at her, and there was something inside her that made her turn to incoherent mush everytime that happened. With the social maturity and debonair of a teenager she blushed and caughted, staring at the floor. Gah! She had to say something now, right? Fidgeting a little with her foot and digging her toe into the floor she cleared her throat a few times.

She started to speak. It came out sounding like a wonded hummingbird dying painfully and trying to say something coherent in its dying breath. Clearly, she was nervous... and now a little embarassed at what sounded like a strangled bird.

Take two. "I... would like... like.... like that," she finally stammered breathlessly.

Okay, breathe. What do they tell you to do when you're nervous? Pretend they're in their underwear. She looked at Aly and as soon as she pictured this her eyes got wide, she turned even brighter red, and looked like she was about to pass out.

Now that she was beside him, rather than looking at him straight on, she found herself calmed a little, but still obviously a little... flustered. This was something even her young Aerandir, still preening her feathers and admiring her own beauty, noticed. Delta seemed to look from one to the other in mild confusion, but seeing as her mother wasn't dead or dying, she stretched out a leg and tried to clean it, rather unsuccessfully, with the preening motions she cleaned her feathers with.

Sy sort of stumbled along as she collected her thoughts a little further. She was a grown woman, she could handle this, obviously. At twenty-two you'd think she wouldn't swoon so easily at affection when she could easily stare at corpses and not be sick. I mean, it just seemed silly.

"I-I'm sorry," she suddenly blurted out, feeling the need to explain. "I didn't think you'd... I mean, I know you're nice but.... I just thought you wouldn't...." Oh, this was coming out wonderfully. "I mean, you treated me the same as Fae and Nyxa.... so..." Blah. She was digging herself a hole, and fast.

Ohohoho. As soon as he mentioned there were different ways he showed he cared about someone she blushed quite visibly as he saw her mind slowly roll into the gutter. It was hard to tell if she even heard the second comment because her expression didn't seem to change, nor did she really look at him when he mentioned that they had a lot to learn about one another.

What... different kind of ways did he have of expressing affections. OH MY DEAR GODS, MAYBE HE HAD A FOOT FETISH! >___< She silently prayed this wasn't true and tried to calm her fears silently.

"Different... ways?" her voice quivered a little, almost afraid to inquire.