Slowly she rubbed her cheek against this half dream-half real hand.<br/>"What.. what do you want from<em>me</em>..<em>like this</em>?? I don't even know how you look at me, Rich..."<br/>She muttered quietly with a full nose, this very earthly need only adding to her miseries.<br/>"Isabelle is naive.. And believes too much in romanticism.. Even without a husband..."<br/>Imma still wasn't fully aware of his real-ness, only rested her weary thoughts against his skin, talking to a ghost. Perhaps she was enjoying the sweet numbness of some antidoloricum.<br/>