Heron Lake Plateau she's so paris when we kiss

The pale girl flinched, but she was unable to look away. His voice was cold and-- to her-- held accusation. She did not understand why-- it is not her fault that the swarm came. His head rolls back and he stares into the cloudless sky with shut eyes. Soon his head falls and his gaze grabs hers again. This time, his is ruthless. It's watery and sad, but behind she can't find any solid emotion to grasp hold of. She's unsure if he's angry or sad or just tired, and even after he speaks she is unable to narrow it down. 

"Why?" She repeats. "Why what?" she asks, her eyes narrowing. Her voice was not as cold as his, but it did not hold it's usual soft chime. Her jaw clenches and she stares back at him. Why what? She can't help but wonder if he's asking specifically about her own actions-- or if he's just referring to the swarm-- or maybe to the fact that she likes the plateau. She stays silent.