Someone needed to tell Gabriel that he was being tremendously demanding of her, because she really felt that curling up into a nice little ball underneath this large bookcase and taking a nap would just be such a nice ending to the day. Greta would have done it herself, but was absolutely too fatigued to bother. Besides, he'd touched her face! That was awfully nice. He was awfully nice, and keeping her company when she must look like a hideous mess, too! She felt a prickle of alarm as this thought was realized in her hazy mind.
But he wanted to talk to her! Oh, that was so nice. Oh, he was so nice! Except she had a sneaking suspicion she had thought this exact thought already, and was vaguely wondering why, but the pressing need to gush an answer was much more prevalent.
"Let's see…," she began dozily, giving him a bashful yet dreamy smile. "I think it was when they were showing the other interns and I the—the—what do you call it?" Oh, how frustrating to not remember a word. Greta always hated when that happened, particularly when she was in the middle of a story. "Oh, the break room! And you were sitting at your desk and looking very pensive and staring out a window that was on the other side of the room. And you were very beautiful then, I thought."
A small, easily quieted part of her brain thought that was probably not something one should bring up for everyday polite conversation, but since she couldn't see or feel her left leg very well, perhaps there wasn't cause for being everyday or polite.
"Do you think I'm beautiful!"
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