She watches him evenly. She's never been good at schooling her expressions. Emotion tends to flash across her features as violently as a thunderstorm; however, ever since the apocalypse, she's gotten in practice with looking like a mirror. Undisturbed, whatever tries to peer inside just bounces right off.

"I ain't used t'bein' with someone who does what I do, either."

The corner of her mouth twitches. He never knew her before. Sometimes it feels like there's more than one voice in her head, and she can't be sure what's up and what's down. She's only ever sure of what she feels in the moment.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, pushing herself into a sitting position. She's straddling his hips, fingertips grazing his belly.

"I'm a bad girl, Tommy. I don't have any illusions 'bout that. I'm a bad, bad girl, an' I do what I have to. Sometimes I wish it could be different, too. But it can't."