Will led Lyra up to his room, both suddenly becoming a little shy. They had never been together in such a private area; all the time they had spent together was in other worlds, never so close to home. Regardless, they were determined to waste no time. After all, neither of them knew how long they had together. Pan and Kirjava cuddled together at the foot of the bed, while Will and Lyra sat in each other's arms at the head.

Will couldn't believe how fragile she felt in his arms. During their adventures together, Lyra had always been so tough. She'd made it through every trial they had faced with hope and determination. Even during their days in the land of the Mulefa, when Will had realized his love for Lyra, she had still been strong and independent in his eyes. Now, her slender figure felt so delicate to him. The only other time in his memory of her feeling this way was that night on the beach. The night they found out they couldn't be together. That night, she had felt fragile. Remembering that night, Will couldn't help but think how strange, how wonderfully strange it was to be holding her again. She smelled of vanilla and honey, and her dress was cottony soft.

Her head was resting on his shoulder, her curly hair splayed across his chest. His chin rested atop her head, and his arms held her to him tightly. This was the one thing Lyra had never dreamed she'd get. Sure, she had had plenty of dreams about Will and her being together, living peacefully in both worlds. But she had always known that these were only dreams and that they would never be reality. Sitting in his arms, in his room, in his world, though, she knew that this was no dream. He smelled like a rainstorm, and she loved it.

They had been sitting in comfortable silence for a while now, and she was beginning to miss the sound of his voice.

"Will?"

"Yes?"

"Tell me about your life. I told you and Mary everything at lunch, and she told me about her research and all, but I want to know about you," she said, sitting up to look at him properly.

"Well… what do you want to know?"

He didn't know how to describe his life to her without telling her how miserable he had been, without telling her that he hadn't been so productive as she had, so driven. He was ashamed that she had been trying so hard to fill her life with meaningful things to tell him when they finally met again while he had simply dealing with his mundane, everyday life. He didn't want her to be disappointed in him.

"Everything. How is school? How is you mother? What do yo do with your friends… everything," she said, looking at him with such love in her eyes it made his heart melt.

He took a deep breath before starting.

"Um… school is ok. I graduated this year. Mum is fine; she goes to the clinic most weekends. That's… about it," he finished lamely.

"That's it?"

"I mean… yeah."

She scooted away from him a bit and crossed her arms across her chest. It reminded him so much of the Lyra he knew all those years ago.

"You aren't telling me the whole truth. I can tell. What's wrong? Why don't you want to tell me?"

He saw hurt in her eyes and knew right away that he had just done exactly what he didn't want to do. Why was life so confusing?

"Lyra, I'm sorry. It's just that being here… having to wake up every day without you and go back to the way things were, being alone has been really hard for me. You've done all this wonderful stuff: tried really hard at school and made friends and the alethiometer and piano even. I'll admit, that one took me by surprise. But I haven't done anything. I just went to school because I had to. I don't have any friends. I haven't been able to take care of my mother properly; she wouldn't be at the clinic every weekend if I could."

He wasn't looking at her when he finished. Nothing out of all the terrible things he had seen in his eighteen years frightened him more than the girl lying in his bed.