She goes very quiet for awhile, fingers still scrunched up in her skirts, knuckles white. She hadn't touched him at all. It felt so wrong to be betrayed over so small a thing, but it hurt for whatever strange reason. Couldn't place it to her need for control or just frustration again at what she was, but alcohol made those sort of things irrelevant.

"It must be so nice to have secrets. How does that feel, to not have the whole world pawing through your open draws like it has a damn place to be there?"