Yasmin grit her teeth and scrubbed her fingers through her short-cropped hair. What he said was true, and part of her knew he probably didn't mean it like that--but harsh reality had slammed back in. She was a slave. He wasn't. Friendships were doomed here, not to mention anything else, and she knew how slaves were preyed upon by the free folk, anyway, who took advantage of their lack of power. Juras didn't seem the sort, but she was very abruptly and uncomfortably aware of their unequal power dynamic.
She thrust the wall back up, her shoulders tense and arms still crossed. "Be careful about what, exactly?" she said, throwing a glance his way. "Being kissing buddies? It's fine, Juras. I don't wanna be someone's practice, anyway."
Even as she said it, she hated it, knowing how harsh it was when she didn't really want to drive him away. She was lonely, but--but this was her life. Driving people away was a defense mechanism she'd learned throughout her time as a slave. It was better to keep her distance.