Ethan leans into her touch as her arms tighten around his neck, and his own tighten around her like he can make it not true if he holds on to her tighter. He knows that he can't. The reality that he lived through makes-- it made no sense. The only reason he thinks he has been able to move on with that reality is because it is so impossible to fully wrap his head around that he would never see her again, and it ended up not being true. She's here even if she's not the Elena from his world, even if--
At what she says, his arms pull her in more tightly to him, and he slides his hands up and down her back as it ruptures in his chest too. He nods when she says it makes no sense to her either, and he doesn't want her to have to worry about it. Things are-- they're different enough in her world. Maybe there's still hope, maybe-- Maybe a lot of things, but he feels her shake her head against him, and his eyes burn more. His hand slips through her hair, wishing it weren't true. But it is.
"Do you see now why-- ...why I said we should have a drink while we talked about it?" Ethan asks with that ache in his voice even as he laughs softly, achingly, pressing his forehead against her shoulder before he lifts his head up to look at her. He slides his hand over her face briefly, still with that wonderment, that amazement. "We were wrong though. I did-- I did get to see you again." His face nearly crumples again, but he fights it.
And he doesn't know if he can hope that-- that this won't be the last time instead (and it's still not the Elena from his world, the one he never told... never told how he feels).
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At what she says, his arms pull her in more tightly to him, and he slides his hands up and down her back as it ruptures in his chest too. He nods when she says it makes no sense to her either, and he doesn't want her to have to worry about it. Things are-- they're different enough in her world. Maybe there's still hope, maybe-- Maybe a lot of things, but he feels her shake her head against him, and his eyes burn more. His hand slips through her hair, wishing it weren't true. But it is.
"Do you see now why-- ...why I said we should have a drink while we talked about it?" Ethan asks with that ache in his voice even as he laughs softly, achingly, pressing his forehead against her shoulder before he lifts his head up to look at her. He slides his hand over her face briefly, still with that wonderment, that amazement. "We were wrong though. I did-- I did get to see you again." His face nearly crumples again, but he fights it.
And he doesn't know if he can hope that-- that this won't be the last time instead (and it's still not the Elena from his world, the one he never told... never told how he feels).