I need you.

[She ducks her head, pushing it beneath his chin as she buries her face in his chest — a silent demand to be held tighter than she's been, looking for grounding as much as for comfort.]

I want to stay here, with you, in the first house I've ever lived in, and the first room that was ever mine, and my little drawers and your heated floors and —

[Again, one of those shuddering breaths; it's muffled this time, but he might well feel it as much as he hears it.]

It's so much easier to be brave for you than for myself, is all.