She ignores the hand - she doesn't need his help doesn't want it. Her arm hurts from the way she grabs him, but she's taken worse. She levers herself to her feet without help, eyeing the ruined hem of her dress before just tearing it off.

"Don't touch me." Once her stupid clothes are sorted out, she rubs a hand over her face before lifting her head. Her make up is ruined and it's obvious she's been crying, but there's no trace of the broken girl that was lying on the floor bare seconds before.

She's not weak.

"What do you want?"