She just waves at him, before holding the pillow tighter. "I do. I'm not s-so broken I can't walk to the next room if I can't keep it together."
Lisa is acutely aware it doesn't really work if she can't even get through the claim straight, and the wan smile on her face telegraphs that pretty clearly. So after a second to let him leave the room without her worrying him any further, she draws her knees up to her chest, gently topples over sideways onto the couch with a small whoomph, and sighs. "What a j-joke... how am I supposed to help h-him if I can't even help myself?"
...She's aware her priorities are a little, tiny bit out of order. But she can deal with being a damn mess. It's not like it's uncommon - if he hadn't offered today, she'd have just stayed in her room and screamed into the void (or her pillow again), or maybe played her guitar until her fingers... no, this is healthier, if nothing else. Probably. Even if she feels incredibly selfish. She would have if they'd stayed at the restaurant, let alone now... ugh. And none of this is helping her with the actual problem she'd spiraled over in the first place, and even though the door's closed and so are the windows, clearly that didn't stop the Bureau at her apartment, so this place might not be safe either...
...fish. Fish are nice. There's a fish tank here. Maybe there's something in it. Lisa watches the fish tank for a long moment, trying not to think, pulling the pillow closer, knuckles taut, hands still shaking. Trying to let her panic dissipate. The hot streaks down her face suggest that's not working, but at least she's not audibly bawling like an idiot, which should not be a victory but sure feels like one and why is she like this-
Should Elliott return in the next ten minutes or so, this is how he'll find Lisa, lying sideways, silently crying, staring unseeing at the fish tank, barring a loud noise that jars her sooner than that. And on that note, perhaps he should make a noise on his way in.
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Lisa is acutely aware it doesn't really work if she can't even get through the claim straight, and the wan smile on her face telegraphs that pretty clearly. So after a second to let him leave the room without her worrying him any further, she draws her knees up to her chest, gently topples over sideways onto the couch with a small whoomph, and sighs. "What a j-joke... how am I supposed to help h-him if I can't even help myself?"
...She's aware her priorities are a little, tiny bit out of order. But she can deal with being a damn mess. It's not like it's uncommon - if he hadn't offered today, she'd have just stayed in her room and screamed into the void (or her pillow again), or maybe played her guitar until her fingers... no, this is healthier, if nothing else. Probably. Even if she feels incredibly selfish. She would have if they'd stayed at the restaurant, let alone now... ugh. And none of this is helping her with the actual problem she'd spiraled over in the first place, and even though the door's closed and so are the windows, clearly that didn't stop the Bureau at her apartment, so this place might not be safe either...
...fish. Fish are nice. There's a fish tank here. Maybe there's something in it. Lisa watches the fish tank for a long moment, trying not to think, pulling the pillow closer, knuckles taut, hands still shaking. Trying to let her panic dissipate. The hot streaks down her face suggest that's not working, but at least she's not audibly bawling like an idiot, which should not be a victory but sure feels like one and why is she like this-
Should Elliott return in the next ten minutes or so, this is how he'll find Lisa, lying sideways, silently crying, staring unseeing at the fish tank, barring a loud noise that jars her sooner than that. And on that note, perhaps he should make a noise on his way in.