If he so much as twitches in the direction of his CiD, Ilde may attempt to put her spike heel through his hand; she feels like she's been surgically opened and Ivan's presence is already uncomfortably close to the idea of a viewing gallery. She isn't entirely sure if she wants him to leave or not (it has temporarily escaped her that they're in his apartment; she's been all but living here with Hilmi at the villa, and it still doesn't quite register as 'not hers' in the immediate), isn't thinking of it in such clear terms when she could instead be thinking any minute now I'm going to wake up and this won't have happened.

She remembers thinking that for a painfully brief time, years ago, and the sound she makes in the back of her throat is choked and askew, like something that wants to be a laugh if a laugh were something ugly. It doesn't stop, though, shuddering in her chest without her permission, and she sobs like somebody who never learned how to do it without hurting herself. This isn't what she planned for or what she wanted-- this is part of her she thought she could keep separate from this, whatever this is.

He isn't supposed to see her this way.