She sniffed, rubbing her face in the interim and giving herself a moment to recover a fraction of her composure. It was a little easier. Not much though. She wondered if he was uncomfortable and regretted staying, which only upset her more. She managed to contain that, however, reminding herself that he was good at refusing to do what he really did not want to.
Cajoling him and convincing him was one thing, but he wouldn't have stayed if he didn't feel like it. She only hoped he didn't feel obligated.

"Then say it," she remarked, staring at his leg, focusing on where the knee rose and created a curve in his pants. "Tell me what I am, Pretty Boy..." Prove that I'm not just 'nothing'...