[This is the part that makes her sick: she knows, even before his arms tighten around her, that they will, and that she'll feel better for it. It feels like a betrayal of everything, of life itself. But that doesn't change the fact that she does feel some measure of relief.]
[She hugs him back. What else is there to do?]
I know you were. I'm okay. Aside from, you know. Being dead.
no subject
[She hugs him back. What else is there to do?]
I know you were. I'm okay. Aside from, you know. Being dead.