Her cheeks darkened horribly as Gwin heard the question.  Of course she knew the questions were coming, they always came.  She hated that every time.  Some things were just hard to talk about.<br/><br/>"Something like that," she replies unprepared for this conversation at this time.  She urges him back to his story, safer for her.   "You were telling me how you were not the soulmate you thought you were to a girl who lived so far from you."<br/><br/>Her hair was dripping less, but was still rather wet.  Her clothes had also dried somewhat, but were still far from comfortable.  Only now his coat was damp too.  Still warmer and more comfortable than her own.  Her hair fell over her eyes again.  She curses her vanity and daydreams of shaving it for a mere second before her vanity kicked in.  She starts rummaging through her pockets for a hair tie.  She stands up again to check her back pockets.  Her slacks, thank heavens she did not wear jeans today as those never dry, were almost only damp on her backside she noted.  That was more comfortable.  She finds her hair tie and stays standing a moment as her elbow flare out wide in her effort to braid her hair.  Her quick, deft weave of her unruly wet mop spoke volumes to her vanity.  Most women these days just toss their hair in some version of a ponytail.  The messier the more in style, it seemed.  She could not bear that.  She had to have it tidy.  So she a thick, raven rope hangs down her back now.  She looks less at odds with herself.  Still far from comfortable or happy though.  The drink cart strolls the aisle.  She digs a bit of change from her pocket before she sits back.  Settling back down, she forfeits the armrest totally, hoping he does not take it as rudeness.<br/><br/>His smile was lost on her at this time.  Yet a thought flashes through her mind.  She had looked into his eyes at least twice and yet she could not remember the color of them.  That was highly unlike her.