“I’m not,” she insisted, pursing her lips. She pulled her coat tighter around herself, rubbing the back of her neck. Freckles brushed past her fingertips and she cleared her throat, shaking her head. “I’m never stubborn.”
She glared at him, her grey eyes narrowing as she considered him. Leaning back against a tree casually, she shook her head slowly, crossing her arms as one hand tugged on a loose curl. "I think I know myself better than you do, thank you very much."
She sighed, stooping down to pick up a handful of soil, letting it fall between her fingers. "You clearly don't know me very well."
She laughed lightly, slipping her hands into her pockets. "Francis, you don't talk to anybody I know."
