Dear God, she was disgusting.
Aside from sleeping with a married woman and not telling her sister about it (one of the worst feats of her life thus far,) the woman simply felt gross. Maybe it could be accounted to the jog she took and the sweat that glistened on her pale skin, or maybe it was the lying and hiding that made her gut churn. Either way, she was far from appreciating or liking the feeling. She was just as far from exposing herself as someone who could feel - she was human, but the dramatics of being stone cold pleased her - and perhaps that was why she went for her jog instead of wallowing in stupid self pity.
Xia sat down on a cold, snow dusted bench of the local park to subtly catch her breath, one hand flicking through her phone for a different song (she seemed to never be satisfied,) while the other fidgeted with her silvery ponytail. Aside from the slight grimace on her face, she appeared to be approachable in the moment.