i think that they could be the better half of me.

And just like that, he felt a certain warmth shared between them pull away. The rise of tension was strong and he rode it out all the same, as though any sort of mental preparation could fortify what he expected next. Though she did not openly go to pieces before him, he sensed the cracks across her demeanor without bringing his gaze back around to her.

But he did, slowly, as she went on to speak. His brow creased uncomfortably at the painstakingly hushed words. How small they made her seem in comparison to him. Keenly aware of what his own lack of voice had wrought, he understood what it meant to burn the candle at both ends. Opportunity came and went in a flash, snuffed out the flame of said candle in a strong gust of wind. But he did not consider it all for naught, instead knowing that even smouldering embers could turn back to flame.

"Harlyn," he said again, perhaps more to her finality. "That's not what I'm saying." She hadn't gone careening off into the night to be alone, but all the same he felt like he was reaching. Grasping after strands of some sliver of something more. Perhaps a younger version of himself would have taken some sort of offense to the whole charade. Perhaps that side of him would have felt more guilt for covering the flame. But he was neither of those things, surprisingly indifferent in his collection of thoughts.

"Don't be so quick to think I'd let you go."