It was a particularly unpleasant thing to feel, after all that touching and murmuring and kissing. The more of it she was party to, the more she seemed to melt into it. Weakening even as her mind continued to run a thousand miles with confusion and fluster. Fortunately, the one question that hadn't popped into her mind was 'why am I enjoying this?'. That would have created all kinds of undue panic and mortification.

But the feeling of her collar (so it actually was one huh? She always thought it looked painted on for her character) getting tugged and the sensation of a scant moment of difficulty breathing brought her back into the now. And reminded her that she was currently trapped in a closet with a borderline psychopath that knew a scary amount about her and wanted to be friends with creepy, lewd benefits.

And her face was back to an almost comical looking bewilderment.

"T-take...the hell does that mean?" Oh, she knew. At least one or two of her favorite novels framed it like that. But she never quite envisioned it being used with regards to her. Not the best first question she could ask.