[Chase knows too well about her lack of faith in ever-afters. That fight's only four months old, and not quite forgotten, although a few weeks in the sun did their fair share to blot it out. He finds himself keeping hold of her sleeve as she moves him away from the door, letting himself be lead. Before he can be made to sit, however, his hand comes up to grasp her shoulder with sudden vehemence.]
We're going to be okay. [She has to know.] I did the right thing.
[He's not sacred, he's not clean, he's not forgiveable. But he was right.]
[once fate put us in the same room, when you knew not of me nor I of you]
We're going to be okay. [She has to know.] I did the right thing.
[He's not sacred, he's not clean, he's not forgiveable. But he was right.]