Hideaway Strath Up north’s getting cold soon

She wanted to disagree with his promise that they could help each other. She had come to believe that there was no helping her. She would have to become some twisted version of herself. Similar but different because the pieces could never really fit back together the way they were before. But his next words—

I need it. 

The plea she could hear in those three words broke her heart even more. All the times she wished he would have said these exact words to her. His cheek was against hers and then he was repeating his first words—they were another plea. She didn't think she could resist anymore—she didn't want to resist anymore. His pleading had been the one thing to pull her completely into the quicksand that was Kynareth Deagon. She released a shuddering breath and pressed into him. I need it too, she whispered. I—I love you. The words were hushed and needy. She didn't realize how saying them would actually make her feel. Her stomach tightened again, and she pushed her face into the fur of his neck. She wanted to hide there and pretend nothing else existed—no complicated relationship, not saints, no neverwinter forest, no awful past to run from; it would all be so much easier without all of their baggage. But life didn't work that way, and at least with him, she could try and restore herself. If she couldn't be the same Simmik as before, she could at least be stronger and more resilient.