[ She tangibly tenses in response to his words — tension in her posture, in her thighs where they're wedged on either side of him, even in her fingertips, where they're digging into his clothes. There's these conflicting, confrontational urges burning underneath her ribs — because of course he means more to her than all her nameless one night stands. She'd bleed and kill for him. For him and Rex both. But she still wants to deny what that means. She wants to deny it with the same impossible stubbornness that has Poe calling her out right now.

Unstoppable force, immovable object. ]

If you know me, then you know I don't do that. [ That. Whatever that means. ] And this is not what I signed up for. [ Her voice goes low, rough around the edges. Conflict is written all over her face — conflict, because he's right and she knows he's right, and whatever it is that she feels, it's not what she intended and it's less than they deserve. ] What the hell do you want from me, Poe? What do you want me to fucking say?