“Arthur?” She tries desperately to keep a hold of her resolve but it is her stupid voice that betrays her, his name came out sounding like a plea on her lips more than anything else. No, she thinks. No, she will not let him do this. She will not let this man who wears his suit as his armor, break her.

“What are you talking about?” There is a crack in her voice, her face twisting into a cringe. It is during this very moment that she hates herself, hates herself for letting him know how much his words have shaken her, and hating him even more as his expression remains distant and emotionless as she watches his dark gaze disappear ahead, towards the window. The action forces her to question if it was already too late, what if she’d lost him already?

(Source: fearthereaper)