All eyes are on us now as we escalate towards the point of climax in our career. You take the lead and I follow, as it's always been, but I know something's different. It must be something in the way you move, because I can feel myself aching to ghost your footsteps. You have a hold on me that I can't control. My heart is sewn into your possession by the red string of fate that's lasted through our war, never fading, tangling, or ripping in the slightest. In fact, we've added our reinforcement to the already immortal material, forcing ourselves into a commitment whether we like it or not.
The band has little meaning to me if I can't be beside you. I know I shouldn't go when there's pressure building behind me, but I'd rather not have your gaze steady upon me in my weakest moment. You deserve the idea that I'm leading you now to somewhere worthy of all this, and that image of me isn't what I'd like to depict. I want to give directions and helpful hints to the place where we can meet in peace, embrace without keeping in mind that there are cameras and video devices just outside our line of sight, everyone and nowhere as we search them out.
I want to give you what I can't. Please wait for me.