[Zev was in no danger from the moment she came into the room. The warning twists in her like a knife, cold and sharp, and she knows - she knows - that she asked Zev to warn her, that she's got no-one to blame but herself for the fact that she's doing exactly that. But it makes her feel sick to know that things are always going to be this difficult, that she'll always be holding others at arm's length and hoping that eventually she can stop feeling like a part of her identity has been carved out and left to rot.
She turns, not away from the touch but under it, and without a word she wraps her arms around Zev in a tense hug.]
[Spam]
She turns, not away from the touch but under it, and without a word she wraps her arms around Zev in a tense hug.]