Kim freezes; there's no impulse to fight back, no last-minute attempt to scramble away. She just stands there, flinching, prepared to be floored by a kick to the head, but it never really comes.

His self-control is about as terrifying as his willingness to attack her.

Her chest rises and falls like a rabbit's as he talks to her, and then she drags herself together. What the fuck is wrong with her? Why does she let herself get so wrapped up in taking something personally? Shouldn't she know better now, after what happened with––

She snatches the phone back and pockets it, and immediately turns on her heel to walk off.