[ Grell shakes her head against him with something between a whimper and a scoff, and when she finally looks up at him, her glasses are fogged up with water, cheeks and nose flushed, lips rosy. She imagines that she hasn't cried like this since she was a mortal child, and she's beginning to fear that there's no way to stop! ]
I-it's your-- own doing. [ She exclaims through hics and sniffles, then bowing her head just so, in hopes that her fringe will conceal her face. She must be hideous! ]
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I-it's your-- own doing. [ She exclaims through hics and sniffles, then bowing her head just so, in hopes that her fringe will conceal her face. She must be hideous! ]