It was uncannily bizarre, and kind of uncomfortably--dare she think it--cute to see the drow grin. Okay. That had to be the first time she'd seen one smile; she didn't even think them capable of it, and she found herself staring a little longer than was polite (except it was a drow, so that didn't really matter...did it?). This was so wrong. They weren't supposed to be capable of anything but savage grunts and their weird animalistic tongue and, y'know, general savagery. Yet here she was, having a fairly normal conversation with a little drow that looked way chipper, serving her food, not trying to kill her and visa versa.
And Dimitri was here. Did she want the drow to send him a message?
Shit, shit, shit.
"Oh, uh, I...yeeeahno. No. That's, um, that's okay," Niamh said, trying to organize her conflicting thoughts. She wanted to say 'yes'; she wanted to see him, say hi, and...
Yeah, get her head lopped off?
Repressing a sigh, she leaned her arms on the counter, food forgotten. "I...don't really know. I dunno if he'd wanna see me, y'know? Of course you don't know."
Then again, if she stayed here a few days, she couldn't just stay cooped up inside all day, right? No. She knew herself, and knew she'd go insane. All her life she'd been the outdoorsy sort, and spending three days locked in a warehouse had made her even more antsy, more claustrophobic; she didn't like feeling trapped and, inevitably, that's what it would feel like.
And if that were the case, if she went out there, there was a chance she'd run into him.
Glancing sidelong at the drow, still feeling a little displaced from reality, she added, half-cringing as she braced for the worst, "Say, Dimitri's never mentioned a 'Niamh' or anything when he's been around, has he?"