"No."

She flings herself off the bed, walks towards the window, paces back, circles her own steps in the room like a dog chasing its tail. All the while she's talking, a stream of words gushing out like a dam breaking, or air escaping a balloon. "No, Maker, no, fuck, no, never, never. First Teo and now you. No. How can you ask that? How can you even suggest that I could just--just feed on you, like you're a piece of fucking meat instead of--and do it with an audience, surrounded by people prepared to put me down like a rabid bear if I lose it, and, and--"

It is more like air escaping from a balloon, because suddenly all the air is gone. Not just the words but the air. She's on her knees retching and doesn't know how she got there, and she can't breathe and maybe she shouldn't, maybe she doesn't even need to anymore but something in her chest is burning and wanting air so probably she does, but there isn't any, and Teo shoves his way into her face and she pushes him away hard enough that he rolls halfway across the room because no, no, no, no, no--