The conversation played back in Quinn's head again, and her body slowly froze over into a shell of lead and ice.

Even as Besca gently rested her forehead on top of Quinn's own crown, she sat still and silent as an ice sculpture in front of the now-blank screen, unable to take back the words that she'd said.

"[color=gray]I feel like you know why that probably wasn’t the best thing to say, so, lets just…take a moment. Lets just take a moment.[/color]"

[b][i][color=ffe63d]She's mad at me.[/color][/i][/b]

The thought blindsided Quinn, sending her reeling like being punched. Her breath caught, her eye shot wide. Why had she done that? Why had she done that? [i]Why had she done that?[/i] She--she should've--she [i]KNEW--[/i]

After that, Dahlia and Besca faded into a strange kind of obscurity above her; she could still nominally hear them and process what they were saying, but felt kind of...separated. Dissociated from it all, like she wasn't really here and she was just daydreaming what was happening. Besca was mad at her. Besca was mad at her, and Dahlia was mad at her too, she could [i]feel[/i] it. She'd [i]ruined[/i] things. [i]AGAIN.[/i] Still she sat there, staring unseeing into the screen, eye wide and scared.

For the first time in weeks, [i]months[/i], she found her hands moving to clutch at her upper arms, felt the nails digging in through the coat. Hot shame welled up in her eye, then began to drip down her face as she silently shook. Her voice, when she tried to speak, was...well, [i]wasn't.[/i] It was a thin, reedy, dead thing, almost inaudible but for the fact that the room was now pin-drop silent. An anguished whisper.

[sub]"[color=ffe63d]I'm sorry.[/color]"[/sub]

[sub]"[color=ffe63d]I'm sorry.[/color]"[/sub]

[sub]"[color=ffe63d]Please don't hate me.[/color]"[/sub]