Ruth's eyes opened. Harry's face was the first thing she saw. It had been the last thing she had seen before falling asleep. She smiled.
His face was a concentration of thought and feeling. And imperceptibly he shook his head.
"What is it?" she asked, sleepily.
"Nothing."
"Harry?"
"Really, it's nothing," he smiled, but she was not convinced.
"Please tell me what you're thinking."
He glanced away.
"Please."
"I was thinking how right this feels, how beautiful you are," she went to protest but his kiss stopped her.
"And?" she eventually said.
"And…I was thinking how lucky I am and that I can't believe that you're here with me, and wondering, well, wondering what you see in me."
She laughed and again he looked away.
"Harry," she guided his face back to her, "don't be silly, how can you think that, any of that. I'm here because I want to be, I'm with you because there's no one else in the world that I'd rather be with and as for what I see in you, I don't think we've got the time even if I was to start telling you now and finish at Christmas!"
He smiled, almost shyly.
"Do you still not believe me?" she asked.
"Yes," he said, but it was not convincing.
"Have I made you so very insecure?" she asked.
"A little."
She sighed at how he could still think that and at the same time she blamed only herself.
"Harry, I was happy in Cyprus," he looked away, "but this," she added, "this is on a different level, this is something beyond that, this is so happy that it hurts, that I feel it physically, that the happiness is something overwhelming, and now I feel like it's an addiction, you and the happiness, I'm addicted to both, they're intertwined and I don't think I can go on anymore without either."
She looked at him, soul gaping wide.
"Do you understand, Harry?"
He nodded.
"But…"
"But, what?" she asked, knowing something more was worrying him.
"Ruth, I'm older than you."
"That's why you're head of Section D, superb observational skills," she was trying to lighten his spirit, it wasn't working.
"I'm older than you," he picked up, seriously, "and Ruth, I will, in all probability die before you, whether by bullet, bomb or just old age. Is that fair on you, do you want that, is it maybe not better to stop this now before we get any closer and that gets even harder?"
"No, I don't want that. Of course not. But I can't stop this now and neither can you. I don't want to, it's taken us so long to get to here and I'm not willing to exchange that for anything. If you are saying to me would I rather not love you and remain unhurt, or would I rather love you and feel as I do, feel the enormity of what I do, then I'd choose to feel everytime. I've chosen the opposite too much in my life and now I know that I'd rather have a moment of pure pleasure and happiness with you, Harry Pearce, than a lifetime of refusing you. Yes, you'll die, so will I and I can't imagine how that will feel right now but I'm not willing to trade this for not hurting. I love you too much for that."
He looked at her and he truly did not know what to say, he didn't have the words and if he had found the words he did not believe he would have the voice to speak them, for he was filled with an emotion that overwhelmed him and surprised him and overjoyed him and so he did the only thing left to him to do. He kissed her.