Sun Mote Copse And I'll hate myself for checking as if I don't know

What Eljay said made sense, but Fennec didn't like it.  She wasn't too keen on liking anything right now.  Immediately her thoughts went on the defensive.  Why should that make a difference? Why did he have to qualify her right to help?  Who said Niamh got to choose who the fuck did what?

I shouldn't have to tell them, she said, feeling the culmination of all of her previous pent up feelings returning.  She'd forgotten, in her time with Penn, how absolutely frustrating life was when others made assumptions.  You shouldn't have to justify why I can do what anyone else can do.  But fine, whatever.

She didn't care now what they thought.  They could laugh at her, think she was copping out, taking an easy route.  

(In truth, if she looked deeper, the only one thinking that was herself.)

It isn't like I can do anything about it now.  But yeah, okay.  She couldn't read Eljay's hurt, and it wasn't clear if she'd have softened her words even if she could.  Instead she sat down, fighting the restless urge to dodge out of here.  At the root of it, she still wanted Eljay's help, much as she might deny the feeling.  I'm going to prove her wrong.