[ Allison's expression doesn't shift. At least not much. She's gotten better at it. She'd never admit it, but she's spent some time in the mirror with this face. Like she spent years doing with her own while acting. Gabriel might be fine letting the riot of his emotions ride her face, but Allison still cared a good deal about what was hers and what was the worlds.

Still there's something that stings to his first question.
The one he leaves so quickly. The one that defines a decade. And more. ]

Then maybe you should start somewhere smaller, and more straightforward. And no. It's still hard enough to handle walking with them sometimes. I've nearly crashed off beds and chairs more often than I'd like to admit because I have forgotten just for a little while that they were there at all.

[ There's a ponderous second before Allison says the insane words her brain had collected together. ] Do you want me to paint them for you?