Sue blinked as Jeremy took his face off. 'Mask,' she thought and in that moment wondered if she'd ever know Jeremy well enough to tell the difference between his face and a mask.
"I could wait months," Sue said as she stroked one of the leaves of lettus on her table. She could recognize most green foods by touch alone.
"I don't think that's how I should go about it, though. I wonder if there's anything to actually do in this house? Maybe we could find something we both like, or we both dislike."
She twitched her lips, as if working something awkward in her mouth.
"I can't live with someone who can't live with me. Part of it is me, and part of it is my visual agnosia. I live in a world where almost everything looks like I'm seeing it for the very first time-- where I forget what something looks like the moment my eyes aren't centered on it. When you live in that kind of world, having one of those unfamiliar things constantly lashing out at you makes you want to shut away from people, especially if you can't read facial expressions and tell when they're angry with you and when they aren't."
Sue looked up to Jeremy, then to the person next to Jeremy (whoever it was) and then to Ilsa and whoever was next to her.
"I refuse to do that. I'm not going to let my disability make a prisoner out of me, and I especially won't be a prisoner in my own room. I may not get Veyu to like me-- but I will find a way to get her to live with me."
She took a bitefull of the lettus on her fork, crunching through it before looking up and asking: "Where is Veyu, anyway?", completely unaware that she was sitting directly in front of her. "I thought she'd be up by now. Eh. Maybe she's tidying up. I wouldn't have pegged her as the type to spend an hour in front of the mirror."
She turned back to Ilsa and smiled. "So, one out of thirty six? You must have had a lot of people to play with as a kid. Sounds nice."