February absolutely refused to let him dictate this, but with every step closer, the desire to flee grew more and more urgent. She knew if he got too close all he had to do was touch her and she'd crumble. Seeing in this godforsaken fog was  impossible, but the closer he got, the harder it was to argue with him.

Tipping her chin upward in defiance, Febby tried to keep her expression cold, wrapping her arms around her middle simply for something to hold on to. "Not here, please." She pleaded quietly. Not in the middle of the street; she could feel the tears rising as he mentioned them and she flat out refused to cry in front of him, let alone in what would normally be considered public.