[She watches him take that step back, feels his hands go back on her shoulder. She looks down at them, from one side to another. Cautious and curious. Debating. Should she accept the embrace? Should she push him away? She could do either. She could hug him or hit him or shove him harshly to the ground. She could be cruel, she's so good at being cruel. Cold and callous and unfair. She's not a good person. She doesn't know why so many people think otherwise.
There's so much she could say. Good and bad. Or she could do exactly as he suggested. She could cry. That would be easiest, wouldn't it? Collapsing in a heap again and clutching her knees to her body and sobbing. She's already done it once today. All the tears ought to be gone, her body dried up. But it isn't. More threaten, especially when she steals another glance at the painting. Is that how he really saw her? Something that beautiful?]
I don't know. [The words are whispered. She can't meet his eye but she can't look at the painting, either. She looks somewhere else instead, at the doorway frame. Neutral, safe territory.] I don't know.
[Action]
There's so much she could say. Good and bad. Or she could do exactly as he suggested. She could cry. That would be easiest, wouldn't it? Collapsing in a heap again and clutching her knees to her body and sobbing. She's already done it once today. All the tears ought to be gone, her body dried up. But it isn't. More threaten, especially when she steals another glance at the painting. Is that how he really saw her? Something that beautiful?]
I don't know. [The words are whispered. She can't meet his eye but she can't look at the painting, either. She looks somewhere else instead, at the doorway frame. Neutral, safe territory.] I don't know.