[ She's trembling, no matter how hard she tries to still herself. She can squeeze her eyes shut and swallow down the sobs that threaten to rise up her throat, but she can't help the way she shakes.

She doesn't know what else to say. What else can she say? To ask him, now, if they can keep trying, if they can figure out how to move forward from this, feels selfish. And still, her mouth opens and only closes when doing so releases a choked noise, because she's selfish. She's always been selfish.

Fuck. Fuck.

Her fists curl into the material of his jumpsuit and cling tight, her head dropping to rest lightly against his. She should let go, but she can't bring herself to. Not when this could be the last time she ever gets to hold him like this, because who could blame him if he really did cut her off, this time? Now he's accepted what he refused to accept before?

He's never been able to give up on her, until she did this. Now how can she expect him to do anything but? ]