She doesn't answer him at first. She doesn't shy away, or flinch, but still the words won't come.

Slowly, she turns back to the sink, switching the water on cold. She washes her face, only gasping quietly as the shock of cold water hits her features and runs down her neck. She's checking herself for bruises, but though the skin of her neck and the side of her head are tender and a bit red, they're not discolored.

"He's nothin' t'me."

She switches the water off, wiping her face a few absent times before reaching for another towel.

"I don't give a damn what he thinks 'bout me, neither."