[A laugh, of some light and tentative sort, leaves Aubrey before she can hold back.] Hey, h-hey, that’s not one of the questions.... [It’s a nervous thing.]

[She glances at Armin. He’s embarrassed. Back down.]

[There’s a compulsion, again, to be honest. Aubrey’s not sure if it’s from the world or herself.] I don’t… know, really— I haven’t tried to take it off. [Herself, then. She knows the mark isn’t what Armin’s talking about.]

Sixteen is kinda young where I’m from… [Like, really young. Like, only absolute sweethearts—like Hero and Mari– don’t think about them now—would even seriously think about getting married fresh out of high school, at 18, young.]

Last we met, it was really good— but everything I told you before, that’s still true. [That wasn’t a happy admission, either.] I don’t know.

[It scares her. Like she’s not the one who met his intensity with a snarling vow right back. The physical proof is exciting as it is damning.]

[Aubrey needs to steel herself. These uneasy pauses are saying too much as-is.] It doesn’t really matter how I feel about it, does it?