She is his strength. And his weakness.
Every time he is reminded of her, he starts drawing in his sketchbook. Sketches of her in moments he wishes he could freeze and replay; in moments where he wishes he is able to touch her, to hold her hand, to caress her cheek and to kiss her lips and in moments where he falls in love with her all over again.
He's on his fourth sketchbook already. The other two are safely tucked between his belongings, and the first, he had given it to her as a present. He doesn't know how else he could express his feelings for her. Because anything else just seems inadequate.
He finds it ironic that she often looks for him when she needs someone to be there for her- the period when Kristen died, when she feels that he understands her the best, and when she just wants to see him. Because he knows he needs her more than she does. She makes him feel alive, much more alive than he had ever been, yet now he's a Shade, wandering on the face on this earth, waiting. Time passes slowly when she isn't by his side, and it just drags on until she finds him.
Then, he hears a movement at the door of the mausoleum. Someone approaches and he gets ready to blow out the candle flame.
"Caspian?" Abbey calls out. He recognizes her voice instantly.
"I'm here. Follow the light." He reaches out for a few more candles and lights them. "Why are you here?"
"Nightmare. I couldn't go back to sleep, so I thought I'll just come by and talk to you. Is that alright?" She walks over, cautiously. He sees that she has hastily draped a coat over her T-shirt and flannel pants.
"Come here, and sit next to me." He smiles, while keeping his sketchbook away.
"Thank you," she whispers, as she sits down.
"Tell me, what nightmare was it?"
"I don't really remember much, other than running away from something or someone." She tells him, yawning slightly.
"I see. Don't think about it anymore. It's just a dream," he assures her. "Get some sleep."
"Okay. Do you mind if I'll just sleep here for the night?" she asks him.
"Not at all. But I don't have a mattress or anything, just this small pillow."
"That'll do." She takes the pillow from him, fluffs it a little and places it on the floor. "Night, Caspian."
"Sweet dreams, Astrid."
Abbey falls asleep soon after and he resumes sketching. This time, he sketches both of them, him sitting down and her lying down, just like how they are right now. But he changes one tiny detail, he draws them, fingers laced together and intertwined, like how their destinies are.
With or without her, he just couldn't live.