[One of them will lose the other eventually, that much is already certain. Before now, he had never thought of what it might mean if one of them was taken, if one of them was sent home. Mourning what was right in front of him, mourning the possibility of it seemed like a waste.
He wished he had thought of it, wished he had spent more time memorizing everything he could. There was guilt there, regret, just as there had been with Cristina.
Letting her go is almost painful, and his arms don't quite listen to his brain. It takes fall too much to let her move away, to step towards the bed, to start peeling off the layers of clothing until he's wearing nothing more than underwear. Crawling under the covers is an almost mindless task, done only out of muscle memory, and he watches her with longing until she returns to him.]
no subject
He wished he had thought of it, wished he had spent more time memorizing everything he could. There was guilt there, regret, just as there had been with Cristina.
Letting her go is almost painful, and his arms don't quite listen to his brain. It takes fall too much to let her move away, to step towards the bed, to start peeling off the layers of clothing until he's wearing nothing more than underwear. Crawling under the covers is an almost mindless task, done only out of muscle memory, and he watches her with longing until she returns to him.]