"Tall enough," Lily replies, and though she may normally have laughed now it at least pulls a smile from her, warm. She lets her hand drop back down before moving to the side as though she's only just realized she was blocking the doorway.

"Of course," she says, exhaling slowly like she's trying to breathe out stress. She is, but that's not the point - the room is still as sparse as though empty, with the only visible signs of being lived in the communicator on the bed she's chosen and the flower crown she'd been fussing with atop the bureau.

When she chews on her lip it's more grounding than nervous, and when she says, "I'm sorry," it's abrupt. It's also unclear what she's sorry for, but she doesn't feel like she knows how to clarify what she means.