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[halfyeared]

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[halfyeared]

[She sits on the edge of her bed, holding his hand until the very last second she could, as if she could will him to not leave with her touch alone. She has tried this entire time to get him to stay, but it was futile. It hurts seeing him leave, but at least she got something out of it, even if she no more understands his leaving now than she did the other night when he stormed out of the brothel without her.

She still feels worked up, more saddened now. It is a sort of completion, a resolution. It's not what she wanted at all, but it doesn't feel so empty or hanging over her. She feels like she's never wanted something more than she wants him now, but she has no way of making him feel the same, or act on it anyway. She knows he does. He could not deny that fact, not even in front of her. So her shoulders just slump as his figure slinks further and further away, never looking back or saying another word. She's gotten her goodbye after all-- as empty as the pit in her chest feels now.]