She stills against him. Her head bowed, eyes resolutely fixed on those half-done buttons, she doesn't move for what seems like forever.

"I don't know if I can."

She's being completely honest. God damn it, she wishes she didn't have all that whiskey in her blood. Maybe then she could've kept quiet. Or at least...

"I don't ... Don't want you t'look at me different. Later on. I don't want you t'..."

She shakes her head. This is impossible.

"It's nothin'. It don't matter at this point; I shouldn't 've been flappin' my jaw."