[She's there but she isn't, ephemeral yet solid enough for the duration. This is a dream, but it's a little bit more than a dream, and while she's not able to do everything she wishes she could, she can do just enough.
There are so many things she hasn't said, that she wants to; there are so many things she'll remember later and wish she'd thought of them now. There will never be enough time to tell him all the things she wants to, or what she's known and seen of him since she started to watch over him like this, or how proud she is of him — even for the choices she disagrees with or recoils from.
But maybe there don't need to be words. Maybe it's enough to cling to him, and to hold him tight, as the walls of the study around them start to fade into darkness.]
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There are so many things she hasn't said, that she wants to; there are so many things she'll remember later and wish she'd thought of them now. There will never be enough time to tell him all the things she wants to, or what she's known and seen of him since she started to watch over him like this, or how proud she is of him — even for the choices she disagrees with or recoils from.
But maybe there don't need to be words. Maybe it's enough to cling to him, and to hold him tight, as the walls of the study around them start to fade into darkness.]