"I'm fine," she says, curling into herself, sliding back onto the bed to put her arms around her knees. She thinks she should feel weaker, but there is an alien sort of vigor coursing through her, like the rush of adrenaline while waiting in the wings. It makes her wonder which it is he means by "a good time." This or-- that other unwelcome intimacy she now feels toward him.

She makes no mention of it, because he surely doesn't share the sentiment.

"Is that all?" She tries her best to come off as aloof, not even returning his gaze. It would be easier this way.