About two years passed. He sat up from the bed they shared. "So, any more questions for me, or have they all been answered?"
Her hand, pale and light, slid up from his navel to his collar bone, spending a moment over both of his hearts. "If we continue like this forever, Doctor, I will not have all my questions answered."
He took her hand in his and smiled. "Let's settle for just one, then."
"Very well. Is this," she motioned to the rest of the bed and themselves, "something, now? Or is it not real?"
So he told her about the other companions, and about loving all of them but loving some of them, and how much it hurt him when he lost them.
"I understand," she said, in the same way as when she had first said it to him. "Then I will not say it."
He leaned down and did something he had never done before and never should have done. He kissed her.
