She watched him closely as she awaited her reply.
The silence was eating her slowly.
"In what context are you asking?" He finally asked.
Her hands in her lap twisted nervously.
Context?
In what context was she asking?
As a friend… or as a…
"As an acquaintance." She sheepishly blurted out.
"In that case, you came to mind a few times."
Oh.
Just a few times.
"That's good to know." Her voice came out sounding flatter than she had initially intended.
He climbed to his feet then offered her a hand.
"No, thank you." She murmured and climbed to her feet without any assistance.
She was well aware that she was behaving like a spoiled child who was throwing a tantrum, but she could not help it…
"Do you have a collection of your own?" He asked, leaning forward to dust the knees of his breeches.
She had a collection of love letters she had never summoned the courage to send, she wanted to say but did not. And now, even her meddlesome parents were privy to private collections.
