"Go away."

I sighed and knocked again, refusing to give up. This answer was exactly the same as the last one, but I didn't back down from the door. "I'm staying out here," I said. "Don't think for a moment I'm leaving you alone."

"Why can't you just go away, Alexander?" she snapped. It felt wrong to be hearing her so angry, so frustrated. "I just want some time alone."

"Because that's not what you want, despite what you might claim. Why can't you let me in, Eliza? I just want to help you. I know you're hurt, and I also know that pretending you aren't isn't going to do any good. You should just let me help you."

"I don't need your help!"

"You keep saying that, but I know that isn't the truth."

There was no answer for the longest time. Finally, there was a creak from the other side of the door, and it slid open, revealing the dark contents of Eliza's room. She stepped aside, staring at the ground as I passed through, and closed the door behind me. "What do you want?" she asked, voice hoarse.

"I'm just here to make sure you're alright."

"Don't you have enough problems to worry about?" she asked, and the question hit me like one of her sharpest daggers. Eliza winced as soon as the words left her mouth. "Okay. I'm sorry. That was unfair."

"Yeah, a little," I responded. "But it's fine. I understand." I dropped to the floor in front of the fireplace, the warmth it radiated licking up my skin, but it hardly did any good against the cold that had seemed to be getting worse lately. Patting the ground beside me, I smiled at her as comfortingly as I could.

Eliza stood still, and for a moment, I was sure she would decline my invitation. But, slowly, she joined me, her back pressed up against the table and her face buried in her arms which were propped up against her knees. She didn't speak, but she didn't have to. I wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close.

"I'm sorry," she murmured after a moment. "I shouldn't have stopped you from attacking him. I just thought...well, we had just lost Thomas. I don't think I could have handled losing you too." Something that sounded like a whimper escaped her mouth. "But it doesn't matter. We lost Angelica."

"Hey, we didn't lose Angelica," I said, as softly as possible while trying not to make it seem like I was treating her like a child. I had been in her place enough times to know that I hated it when people did that to me. "Angelica's going to be just fine. We're going to save her, and then we're going to kill that bastard we have for a king."

Eliza looked up at me wearily, and it seemed as if she couldn't bring herself to believe it no matter how much she wanted to. I wasn't sure if I completely believed it myself, but the way she softened against my body was enough. I rubbed her back as reassuringly as I could, trying not to remind myself how much Thomas liked it when I did that to him.

"What if she's already dead?" Eliza murmured.

"Think about it. Why would the king go through the trouble of kidnapping her when he could have just killed her?"

"Kidnap?" she repeated, trying the word out on her tongue like she had never heard it before. "What does—?"

"Like, to take somebody. Abduction I guess? Do you really not know what that means?"

She shook her head. "That doesn't make a lot of sense. Why do the kids nap while they're being stolen? And what if you aren't a child?"

I shook my head, but couldn't help but smile. It was good she wasn't too upset to question me. "Don't worry about it. Anyway, as I was saying, if the King wanted her dead, why not kill her then and save himself some trouble? And why Angelica?"

Eliza paused, somehow drawing closer to me. "I suppose you're right. But whatever he needs her for...it scares me, Alexander."

"That's okay. It's alright to be scared."

The fire crackled in the hearth. I didn't dare take my eyes off of the dancing flames pirouetting before the cobblestone despite how much it brought me back to that night. That horrid night where the fire eventually led to me losing the only person I loved.

"I'm sorry Alexander. This isn't fair to you. I didn't mean to detract from your loss," she said, pulling away, but I didn't take my hand off of her back.

"It's fine, Eliza. Really. I don't mind. You have every right to be upset, just as much as I do. And I know people say that crying never gets you anywhere, but they're wrong. Feeling emotion is the first step to recovery." My voice shook as I said it, and I wondered where the idea came from. Had I always believed that?

She wiped the last of the tears away with the heel of her palm, attempting to smile in my direction. "You're too good for me."

"That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard someone say ever, Eliza. I'm literally the equivalent of a trash monster."

She hit me playfully on the shoulder, and I grinned and rose to my feet, extending a hand to help her up. She watched me for a moment before she took it. Her hand was warm, her skin soft. I swallowed as she looked at me carefully, as if I was something she didn't quite understand.

"Where are we going?" she asked as I led her past the fire, extinguishing it with a single thought.

"Have you ever been to the library upstairs?"

"I mean once or twice. Why?"

"I don't know. It's just... it's nice. Quiet, peaceful. A good place to just think."

"Thomas used to go there a lot," she said, and I guess she was trying to warn me. She must have known how fresh the wounds still were, but I'd have to face it sooner or later. It would be good for me.

"I know," I said, dismissing the apprehension that had snaked its way into my stomach. "But I can handle it."

The walk there seemed shorter than it usually was. Not enough time in between to mentally prepare myself. But I tightened my hold on Eliza's hand, and she didn't complain, so we continued forward while idly chatting about things that perhaps didn't matter and weren't as important as what we should have been talking about.

But it was okay.

Maybe Eliza and I can help each other.

"Alright," I said, opening the door to the library before I could change my mind. I stepped through, glancing around as memories seemed to play out before me. Tears sprung to my eyes almost immediately, the curse of the constant reminder that Thomas couldn't be there for me anymore.

"Perhaps this was a bad idea," Eliza said, trying to grab my hand as I started forward, but I waved her off.

"No. I need this."

I had told him I loved him there, on that couch. He had kissed me, taken my world in his hands, and promised me everything. And I had held him that night, just as he had held me. That night, I discovered what it meant to fly, and I remember never wanting to let that feeling go.

It hurt to remember. Hurt like a thousand thorns pricking my fingers, digging into my skin and letting my blood stain the wooden floor red. But you can't have a rose without the thorns.

My fingers reached out, brushing against the iron bars of the railing keeping me from plummeting to my certain death. I swallowed hard and gazed out at the endless sky, disrupted only by the magnificent moon and its legion of stars. No wonder Thomas liked this place so much. If I ever felt trapped or alone, all I had to do was come here.

Oh, Divinity. Eventually I'm going to have to visit the beautiful, simple room filled with all of his instruments, aren't I? How could I ever be prepared for that?

Perhaps I was looking for a clue. Perhaps I came here because it would bring me closer to Thomas one final time before I had to say goodbye forever. Maybe I even came here just for an explanation.

"You okay?" Eliza asked softly, her hand against my back in such a dutiful and worried gesture. "If you want to step outside for a minute, I'm sure it'll be okay. Thomas wouldn't mind."

"Thomas isn't here."

"I don't know. I know he never believed in this kind of stuff, but I've always been fascinated by the idea of life after death. Maybe he's watching you?"

I nodded.

I don't want him to watch me. I don't want him to be my silent guardian, unable to interfere, unable to speak, unable to do anything but watch. I want him here. I want him right besides me, his hand resting on my shoulder the same way Eliza's fell against my back.

I just want my Thomas.

Divinity, it sounds so childish and stupid but it's true.

And I was tearing up again. Eliza's hand wrapped around my body and pulled me closer to her as I buried my face in my arm. The wind tousled my hair, throwing it back into the room with a silent ferocity, but I didn't care. I just wanted my Thomas.

Eliza didn't speak, but she didn't have to.

I, on the other hand, was apologizing profusely. Sobbing and begging for forgiveness, even if the only person who could forgive me would never be able to. I let him down. I failed him. It's all my fault and I wasn't there for him when he needed me to be and I ruined everything and if I never existed maybe he'd be alive now and—

"Alex," Eliza whispered out loud, and only then did I realize she must have been listening into my thoughts. "Alex, no. You can't blame yourself for what happened."

"I know," I said. "I know I know I know. But I can't help but thinking that if I were any better, any different, then maybe..." I couldn't say it, I couldn't acknowledge the hundreds of horrible thoughts.

Eliza pressed herself closer to me. "Thomas said the stars had names. What do you think that one was?" she asked, pointing to one of them.

"I don't know. That might be Sirius or something. Or Andromeda. Maybe Bellatrix? I think that's a star. Sorry. Those are really the only stars I know." I didn't dare mention where I knew them from.

"Those are weird names. Did they pick them themselves?"

"No. I don't think so. I'm sure it was a bunch of scientists who decided to name things that don't have feelings or thoughts or anything at all."

"I thought they did though? Couldn't he speak to them?"

"Eliza, no offense or anything, but I don't really want to talk about this right now."

"Right. Sorry."

The gentle press of her fingertips left my side a few moments later, and she withdrew and retired to the couch. I turned, watching her as she gracefully sunk down and sighed, the wind blowing her hair slightly to the left. She cast a smile at me when she noticed I was staring, and patted the empty space next to her welcomingly.

"What was our marriage like?" I asked.

Eliza froze, and it took her a minute to finally laugh and look away from me. "What was our marriage like," she repeated carefully. "Divinity. It was...it was great. And strange. And there were some parts that weren't so great, but for the most part, I loved spending my time with you."

"I'm sorry that I'm not who I was."

"But you are," she said, and she didn't at me as she took my hand. "Sure, perhaps a few things have changed, but when it comes down to it, you're still the person I fell in love with millions of years ago. And I still like you, Alexander. I still like you a lot."

I didn't say anything. She rested her head against my shoulder. I pulled her closer to me. We fell asleep like that.

And perhaps it's bad, but I didn't regret a single thing.