[ Her head tilts at his explanation, not seeming to understand the distinction at first, until she ruminates on it. She let go of her cheer first, then her compassion, while resent and bitterness and despair had still lived on. It makes perfect sense to her that uglier, harsher feelings were the ones that became anchors for him. Even a saint wouldn't remain as they are, put through the same circumstances.

She lifts their hands a bit in emphasis at the rest of his words, before tugging them forward a step again. ]

You may think of me as a helpful maid, but until this hotel, I averted my eyes from everything but myself... in order to hold myself together.

[ Which she's even able to admit with the slightest hint of shame, now, where months ago, she might've just said it coldly and without feeling. Helping others, truly helping them in things that are not making their bed or washing their dishes, is similarly not familiar to her. Many times has she thrown people to the wolves (figuratively) (literally? 🧍‍♂️), but she thinks he'll understand that. ]

Now, watching you, it feels more like I may yet reclaim some humanity.

[ It gives her hope, the tiniest, little fragile shred. ]

It may be a fledgling feeling to you, but it did return one day, hmm? [ a beat, and then a little teasingly: ] Despite your begrudging nature.