[ It pains me to think of a life without you. And she had left him for ten years believing she was dead. Neria tries to quell the guilt and while she does not quite succeed, she manages to at least set it aside for the moment. She has hurt so many people and she still feels so frustrated with her own naivety and blindness to think that letting him believe she was gone was ever a good choice. They had not departed on good terms, that much is true...but he deserved better. She is trying to make it up to him.
She doesn't want to leave. If she has to, she will, and she has no qualms with returning to the work she once focused on. But the idea of going back to that old structure, to the loneliness and the quiet, fills her with dread.
Perhaps he has made her complacent in wanting something more, in hoping for more out of her existence. She knows if she insinuated such, he would tell her that she deserves more than she allows. Neria lets out a shaky exhale of nerves, her hands never leaving his. She isn't very good about communicating her feelings without the cup overflowing. All of this is new to her. But she wants to try, at least. ]
I don't...want to leave. But I also know that no one is obligated to offer me a chance to stay in any capacity, not after...everything.
[ And he can argue that all he wishes, but the truth is plain: she is a stranger to almost everyone and her last 'good deed' was in killing the Archdemon ten years prior. By all rights, she isn't owed anything.
It's obvious that for all her silver-tongued glibness when it comes to most anything else, speaking from the heart is more difficult for her, as it is for him. She swallows, finally slipping one hand from his grip so she can lift it to his face. Her thumb brushes over his cheek. ]
I don't need promises. You should know that I haven't been this content in ten years. And I haven't felt anything this...this strong or-- I'm happier with you than I was. I would be at peace with this, if you'd allow me.
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She doesn't want to leave. If she has to, she will, and she has no qualms with returning to the work she once focused on. But the idea of going back to that old structure, to the loneliness and the quiet, fills her with dread.
Perhaps he has made her complacent in wanting something more, in hoping for more out of her existence. She knows if she insinuated such, he would tell her that she deserves more than she allows. Neria lets out a shaky exhale of nerves, her hands never leaving his. She isn't very good about communicating her feelings without the cup overflowing. All of this is new to her. But she wants to try, at least. ]
I don't...want to leave. But I also know that no one is obligated to offer me a chance to stay in any capacity, not after...everything.
[ And he can argue that all he wishes, but the truth is plain: she is a stranger to almost everyone and her last 'good deed' was in killing the Archdemon ten years prior. By all rights, she isn't owed anything.
It's obvious that for all her silver-tongued glibness when it comes to most anything else, speaking from the heart is more difficult for her, as it is for him. She swallows, finally slipping one hand from his grip so she can lift it to his face. Her thumb brushes over his cheek. ]
I don't need promises. You should know that I haven't been this content in ten years. And I haven't felt anything this...this strong or-- I'm happier with you than I was. I would be at peace with this, if you'd allow me.