Noctisardor Bypass laksen

it was the glitter of tears standing in his eyes which brought heda's own pained gaze back to him, surprise rippling through sorrow. why did he weep? wasn't he happy that she didn't expect anything of him?
a ribald bounce of hope went through heda, followed by a deep horrendous frustration. he had no right to cry! he had no right to pretend that he cared all of a sudden.
the idea that maybe anselm thought she needed the performance did very little to send away the sting of humiliation and anger. 
is he good to you, heda? and she felt herself respond with a dizzying power to him, wanting nothing more than to throw her arms around his shoulders and kiss the places beneath his eyes before the tears could fall; to feel the dark strength of his arms wrapping tightly around her; wanted to pull him down atop her in this leaf litter and answer anselm in the only voice he knew.
in the space of only a few seconds she was unraveled.
"he talks of god. he wants to marry me." there was no way for her to rejoin in the way anselm asked; heda remembered the burn of amadeo's paw over her own watersilked skin. "he wants me," and that was goodness enough, voice falling to a sodden whisper as heda felt her own stare filling with new salt which overflowed and cut rivulets into the fur cresting her cheekbones. 
he wants me and you don't. why are you asking this?