She hesitated before opening the door. She stepped cautiously into the house, flinching when he threw more knives into the wall. She heard his question, but held back her answer. He hadn't upset her, not on purpose at least. He was only telling her a story, one she had wanted to hear. She just wasn't quite prepared for it. So technically yes, he had upset her, but she wouldn't tell him that. She closed the door quietly behind her, watching as he threw another knife into the wall.
"You didn't upset me. I just...have a weak stomach is all." It was convincing, and true. She knew he was talking about the crying, but she was going to pretend that didn't happen. She didn't cry often, and when she did, she didn't like to remember it. She held her eyes on him, smiling slightly as she did so. She didn't want him to feel bad for her short moment of weakness. She didn't want him to think it would be a reoccurring thing. She would make sure it wasn't.
She walked over to him, slowly but confidently. She wasn't afraid of him or his past. She knew who he was now, sorta, and she wouldn't leave him because of something that wasn't his fault. She had decided this before he even told his story, and she would stick by it until he told her he didn't love her anymore. She stood next to him, watching as he took his anger out on the wall. She smiled as best she could as he chucked another one at the wall. "Mind if..if I try?" She looked at him softly.