The Sunspire obvious

There were several long moments of silence, and these ones were not the comfortable short they usually shared. It was no wonder—a lot hung suspended in the air between them, namely her own pride. Hydra watched as Rian struggled, and simply wanted to tell him no, nevermind, don't worry about it—but the crueler part of her wanted to see this play out, wanted him to endure some of what she endured, even though he couldn't possibly in this moment, not when it was her heart that was on the line. In the end, Hydra had decided to tell him not to worry about it—she cared too much to have him feel hurt, and that in this moment it would be better for him to avoid it if he could. 

And that was when he spoke. 

His first words encouraged her mental insistence that this would be "the gentle let down", simply started in a different manner than she had expected. But. That was what she waited for. But then he continued to speak, and Hydra found herself interpreting something completely different. He didn't think himself worthy of her? How did he think of himself, if not how she thought of him? But he spoke on his dark Summer, of imagining her there—all this time, and she did not know. In fairness, neither did he. 

It took another beat for her to completely get that he was interested in her, too—contrary to her initial belief. Her tail waved a little between her hocks, and her ears leaned forward. Maybe you could stay at Moonspear, she suggested, tilting her head, maybe we could see where our interest takes us. Maybe now they did not need to be apart; maybe they could see whatever this interest was through. Hydra wondered if this would be something that he would want to do—perhaps the Vale was more important to him, and if this was the case Hydra would understand entirely. Selfishly, though, she hoped that Rannoch might be his home now—more selfishly, she hoped to become some of his home, too, so that he might never leave. 

You are worthy of whatever you think yourself worthy of. But for all that time you left me hanging, you're going to need to put in some work, she teased then, knowing he had only left her hanging for three minutes at best, and grinning, ...I like wildflowers. Blue ones, red ones, too, she said with a little laugh. Their conversation had been a heavy one, despite their breakthrough, and its positive turnout certainly elated her—she wondered... she wondered if he might share this sentiment.