"Don't do that."

She sits down in a corner, not on the leaf, and hugs herself.

" - did someone hurt you?"

"I'm not sure what to say about that."

"Okay. 

Well, shit."

He goes to the door and checks that it's closed and - paces.

Well, that's clearly an outsized reaction to the actual situation, and if she doesn't correct it soon he's going to be really annoyed when he figures out what it was. She feels sick. She leans against the wall and combs through things she wants to say and finds that most of them are lies of some sort. 

"It's not - I don't think it's the sort of thing I ought to be upset about," she says, eventually.

"....ok-ay?

Don't answer if you aren't sure of yourself but - is it the sort of thing I ought to be upset about?"

"I don't - I don't know what to say about that."

"Okay. 

Is - is something bad going to happen in the next couple of days -"

"I don't think so? I should just - I should just explain what happened but I don't - I think I need a minute."

"Okay."

Pacing.

Well, she has handled this approximately as badly as it was possible for the thing to be handled. He's going to be so upset with her for worrying him for no reason. 

"Okay. I - was working on a translation with your father, and someone came by and said they were looking for you, and had already checked here and checked the house of the person you were sleeping with, and your father looked at me and the other person said 'no, the other one', and - then I left your father's house and I cried in the forest for an hour for no - that's all that happened.

"I'm sorry for worrying you, I didn't mean - I didn't want to talk about this. I realize it's - " - not important, except she isn't sure all of her realizes that and she isn't sure something terrible isn't going to happen the next time she lies -

" - I'm sorry."

"And you were...worried they were looking for me?"

She rests her head in her hands, miserably.

"I did not realize you were sleeping with anyone."

"Oh. Uh. Okay. And - and that reminded you of something about the old court, like the bed did?"

"I - not really? Sort of? I just - "

She curls up tighter into her corner, miserably.

"You remember the end of the Odyssey, with Penelope, where she pulls out the threads of the funeral shroud she's weaving every night, so she doesn't have to marry anyone else while she believes her husband is still alive?"

"Yeah."

"Penelope's not - it's not reasonable, to expect that of people, really, if their spouse is probably dead and has probably been dead for twenty years. Even if they really loved them. But it's not - it means something, it means a lot that she didn't marry anyone else.

"I - it's not even really relevant, okay, I know we're not - I don't know what we are, but we're not married, I understand that. It's just - I think I was - confused, maybe, about - about whether you - 

"I'm sorry."

"I think I am still really confused."

Miserable sigh.

"Do you - would a hug help?"

"I - don't think - augh."

He sits there unhappily.