Stavanger Bay It was all forlorn, if only for a season

"i think," and it hurt to breathe, "i think i want you to f-focus on getting better, before me." it aligned with what he did not want: eternal spotlight toward himself. "i w-want this too, reverie," he fairly whispered, "and i know that n-no matter where or what, that love is t-there."
for them both.
he drew a long breath and shut his eyes, squeezed her paw; he felt tension in his arms, wrists, body; entire.
"i'm n-not going anywhere."
his voice firmed as he said this, for he wanted her to know it was the truth. he languished when she was sick, not while she was well; when reverie had her steadiness, so did lestan.