[For a long moment, then, she's just quiet — but what she's not saying in words, her body language more than expresses. It's there in the sag of her shoulders, the way she curls in on herself like a dying flame fighting against a cold wind. Her arms draw in to her chest while her hands fold into her lap; her head sinks a little lower, turtling with the weight of the recognition that's slowly starting to dawn.]
no subject
Is that what you want from me, too...?
[Her voice is a whisper, now.]