[ Her mouth splits open into a grimace somewhere in the middle of his rant, her hands moving to grip the arms of her chair very, very tight. It's like that's all that's keeping her from rising to her feet, which would escalate this whole thing to a place she doesn't want to go.

Though she's becoming less sure with every word he speaks that she doesn't want a fight. ]

Don't talk to me like I don't understand anything! And don't talk to me about who cares and who doesn't! Do you care about me, Noctis? You don't even know me! You don't know a single thing about what I am!

[ "What."

She doesn't stop, in fact steamrolling ahead without pause. ]

It's not like I care for no reason! Do you have any idea what it's like to be trapped in a situation like that?! Made for some ... some purpose that you can't escape and treated like you're just some thing that people can throw away when it breaks?! It's awful! I could run away, but maybe he can't!

[ A pause.

All at once Xion seems to realize she's finally said too much. Her face slowly pales as she claps both hands over her mouth, her expression morphing from anger into pure fear.

He'll hate her.

He'll hate her.

She should go. But she can't seem to get her legs to move. She just sits there, looking white and sick and scared. ]