[It is entirely too familiar to be directed around that way, to be ignored while she does it. Jumping through hoops to finally get her turn under the artist's hands. Maybe it won't hurt as much, but it was the hands that she wanted--(It was the hands that held all the power, a thought she had pondered over, long before the bullet made hers useless.)]
I'll be very still.
[She shouldn't say those sorts of things, she's just mocking herself with it, maybe him too.]
too early;
I'll be very still.
[She shouldn't say those sorts of things, she's just mocking herself with it, maybe him too.]