Something in Dia's stomach yields and caves. It is so, so very hard to say no to Mari -- always, but especially so when she's towering over her like this, and when her voice drops low just so.

Dia's base instinct demands to look, and to touch, but she's in over her head and it's getting harder and harder to breathe. She doesn't know how she ended up here but her hands and knees are trembling, and she's almost queasy with nerves.

"F-fine," she mutters out, angling her chin up to meet Mari's eyes despite the strain of it. "If I'm being honest, then I don't want to be doing this." She says it clearly, sharply, even though her voice trembles at the end. "Not like this. Not-- when you still won't kiss me."