[ The pain in his voice is almost worse than just seeing the hurt on his face. Rose knows what she said would cut. It was meant to. But unlike her father who she inheriented the trait of a sharp tongue from, she feels immediately remorseful for it. It can't be changed now but guilt gnaws at her all the same.

When he reaches for her hand, she withdraws it to her front. While usually his touch would be a comfort, right now everything is still too raw. She lets him speak in stony silence. As he explains, the tension in her shoulders starts to release. She's not so much bunched up with angry nerves as she is just laying on the bed now. Defeated. Tired. Sad.

For a brief bit, it might seem like she's just not going to answer. Then she suddenly rolls back around to face him. She keeps her arms tucked against her despite the almost innate desire now to reach out to him. ] I know, [ she says, trying her best to bite back the tear brimming in her waterline ] that this isn't what either of us wanted. What either of us want? I just.

[ She hadn't imagined he'd felt quite the same way. It seems silly to think they weren't on the same page; they have been more often than not, haven't they? ] After the fair, I figured I blew it. Like, why would you want to marry me after basically telling you how much that idea freaked me out? And then I went home and- Vanyel, there's so much you still don't know about that time. Which is, like, totally my fault because I've been scared to tell you but-

I don't know. I don't want to get married like this, I want. Something better, for both of us. I do. I just don't know if it's going to get any better with me and. You don't deserve that.

[ I don't deserve you. ]