She thought of withdrawing her hand from his when he commented on it, but she had come all this way that she felt she would rather die than lose contact with him after all this time.  She let the comment pass, hoping he'd be to busy wondering what had happened to her that it would slip his mind.  Her first gaze at the apartment left her sad, seeing his things in boxes, the empty look of the place.  She had hoped he might have been settled, maybe even have found someone else, though that would have killed her in its own way.  Instead, it seemed he was only just now getting back on his feet.  She wanted so badly to erase the time she had missed, change what had happened, but it was too late for that.<br/><br/>It was dark, the moonlight blocked by the long vertical blinds over the patio door.  She'd noticed the balcony from the outside of the building and had theorized about using that as an entry point, but it seemed to...cliche...to her.  It seemed he'd been eating alone in the dark on the love seat, a rather depressing dinner compared to the constant back and forth they'd had at their small kitchen table at their apartment over wine and candlelight.  Or the bright banter if they picnicked in the park, ending with the two of them making out on her grandmothers old red and white checked blanket.  She closed her eyes as the memories passed.<br/><br/>He led her to the living room and sat on the couch.  She followed suit almost as easily as if they had no secrets between them, though she knew there were many, now.  He looked worn, but excited.  She was probably going to burden him very unpleasantly on top of all the other stress he'd obviously been under.  No on liked to move.  Still, when he asked her, she had to take a moment to process it.  Yes, it had really happened.  He was really there, and expectant and desperate look on his face, begging her to explain why he had endured so much, only to have her return here, now.  She dropped her hands to her lap, trying to think of the numerous explanations, ranging from the truth to anything but, that she had prepared.  None came forward.<br/><br/>She listened to his heart beat, his lungs exchange bad air for good, all the millions of nuanced bodily functions she'd ceased to be bothered by.  She'd made sure to eat before she came, not wanting this to turn out any worse that she thought it already could.  His hand was warm in hers, plump and sweaty from the stress of the experience.  She didn't mind.  In fact, it gave her an idea.  She curled her fingers in with his, leaning towards him slowly, much as she'd done the first night they'd gone out, and kissed him, her lips not pressing deeply, but softly, gently, questioning his permission while disclosing her desire.