None of this really processed itself within Elia's mind. It was just a spot on the wall on which to focus as she felt Dax move behind her. Porcelain rattled. The Shienaran drew in a deep breath, ready to unleash a torrent of abuse upon Dax if he so much as chipped one of her cups.
His words pulled her away from that potential outburst. When he spoke, he sounded fond. Well, she thought it sounded fond. "Because I want to." That had to be fond. So why then can nothing change? It was hard to hear him speak like this, flittering between affection and disregard for her. Sometimes he seemed methodical and drone-like in his care of her; others he was like this, massaging her back and pouring her tea. Her fingers numbly took hold of the cup when it was offered to her.
She ran a nail around part of the rim. Steam rose up from the dark liquid, coating her finger in a layer of condescension, heating it to the point of discomfort. It was a good analogue for her 'relationship' with Dax; the closer she got...
Releasing the held breath slowly through her nostrils, he turned to the right to face Dax once again. She couldn't read his face, partially because it was obscured by his own cup. With her free arm - her bad arm - she rested her withered hand on his knee. Elia waited until she had the Tairen's full attention before speaking. "And what if I order you to stay?" She couldn't suppress a slight crease of her brow. "Would that cause you more pain than asking you to leave?"