She was quick to notice that he didn't recognize her. This must be some part of his past, then. Maybe he was reliving a part of his life and she didn't quite fit into it. That he was treating her like this when he couldn't remember her only made her feel even more affection for him. He wasn't being lecherous or grabby or rude. If anything, he was being chivalrous, covering himself and seeing to her comfort.

She couldn't not smile at that, watching the door open with just a twinge of frustration. Stupid door. She wonders about that, about what would happen if she just pushed him back through it and sat on this side of it so he could enjoy his, um, happy time. Would she find herself back in the room? Would she be able to slip out of his dream? She wasn't sure, but she didn't want him to realize who she was or that she'd seen something he probably didn't want her to see.

"I can, uh, I can phone a cab. I'm fine. No drinking for me tonight. You should, um, go back to your... thing." Yes, his thing. His thing that she could smell all over him, the scents of multiple people mingled in with his own in addition to that raw and musky sex scent.