[He might as well be talking to himself, at this rate, and it doesn't seem worth the effort to correct him. Or even to remind him that she has the right to worry. At least, she will. A certain amount of concern isn't unreasonable. She's been widowed once. Things go wrong without any warning; it's a fact of life.]
Don't stay away and I won't have to.
[Fingers knit with his, she shuts her eyes, lips set in a soft frown. She can't help but feel this is awfully unfair-- losing something she doesn't have to begin with. Maybe she should focus on the thought that she won't remember any of this (or so they say) when she finally leaves the City.]
[once fate put us in the same room, when you knew not of me nor I of you]
Don't stay away and I won't have to.
[Fingers knit with his, she shuts her eyes, lips set in a soft frown. She can't help but feel this is awfully unfair-- losing something she doesn't have to begin with. Maybe she should focus on the thought that she won't remember any of this (or so they say) when she finally leaves the City.]