[He knows where this is going. He knows what he is, after all. If he keeps pushing she'll die. If he comes too close she'll die. If he stays near, sooner or later, she'll die.

Maybe that'll teach her to want it. Maybe...]

It's just a dream. [His ruined voice is soft again. He looks her in the eye, holds her gaze while he still can. Or while he can. Tracking every change, every expression.] Just a fantasy we both had. That things could be better. This is what is real. Your death. My - this. My damnation.

[Would he do it? Damn her, too?]