A concerned half-frown remained set on Quinn's face, but she was realistic enough to know that if Dahlia said that she couldn't promise something, that thing wasn't being promised. Her honesty was something that Quinn truly loved about her; but it was also something that made it hard to believe that she wouldn't spin down the drain again the second something happened to Quinn. 

But as long as she was willing to [i]try,[/i] that was the best that Quinn could've hoped for, really. She'd halfway expected that she wouldn't even give her that.

At Deelie's apologetic smile, Quinn gave one in return. One that felt unfamiliar on her face, a kind of warm comforting thing, and her voice dropped into a soft, soothing tone that felt at once familiar and not. That brief kindling of comfort, like she'd felt it in a dream somewhere before. "[color=ffe63d]As long as you try. You've always been able to do anything you put your mind to as long as you don't give up, y'know?[/color]"

She held her phone out in front of her and reached in, giving the camera as best a hug as she could under the circumstances. "[color=ffe63d]I love you too.[/color]"

A moment more basking in Deelie's presence before the line cut off and she found herself alone in the park once more. She took a deep breath. Then another. Then a third, and then she stood and began walking. The crowd had [i]seen[/i] her stumble back. So had the Derisas. And, it went without saying, Camille. Trepidation bubbled in her gut, and that panicked fluttering in her chest struggled to break free again as the noise drew closer. But after another set of deep breaths, it was settled enough for her to merge back into the main street of Cantimine.

The first person who noticed her screamed softly--Quinn frankly didn't even know that was a thing you could do--and jostled the person next to them. And as the murmuring spread through the crowd and dozens--possibly hundreds--of pairs of eyes turned her way, all she could do was give a cheeky wave and a smile that she [i]really, really[/i] didn't feel before setting out again. With purpose this time, as she forced down that flutter again. It would beat against the walls of her chest the whole time she was out here, she knew. But she could not. Afford. To indulge it. Any more.

Who knew that a crushing panic attack built up such an appetite?