Viola lets his answer float around in her head for a moment. Even lays her cheek against his shoulder to give him a brief reprieve from her searching gaze as she thinks. She often finds herself shrinking down until she's literally invisible—hidden away in impossibly small spaces. Not so often now as she did when she was younger but she thinks she understands this rule. And she almost never says anything confidently. Every statement caged by an 'I think' or 'I suppose.'

She doesn't think she could explain why she does this though or where these self-imposed rules stem from. If she lifts her head he might ask. So, she doesn't.

"I understand that."