[Lina has lived most of her life beholden to the wills of others. of things more powerful than her that she could never hope to control. the orphanage, her bosses, the concept of capitalism itself... even Jen, in a way. rent-free can only go so far. everyone's kindness dries up. everyone loses their patience eventually. the only constant in this world is herself.]

[she's heard it called solipsism before, but that seems wrong and she doesn't have the mind to get too into it. the point she's driving at while she looks at Jen's arm and wonders why these things don't bother her as much is that she's... well. she's only gotten surface-level changes. things that can be hidden with contacts and dye. she's allowed to feel like her own body is impermanent, to be fine with whatever happens to it as long as her mind stays intact, because she's the one with the privilege. in this situation, at least.]

[Lina reaches up with the hand that was on Jen's leg and gently touches her right arm. it's hard to put one emotion on her face, and she's suddenly self-conscious about looking directly at her with these eyes that she's not bothered by.]

It is scary. Just because it doesn't bother me doesn't mean it shouldn't. I'm... lucky, you know? [she shouldn't have to explain that. her hand falls; it feels like she doesn't have the right to touch Jen's arm, suddenly.] I'm sorry. I didn't realize how much this affected you.