She is fleeting.
A wave of fresh grief floods over him, and suddenly his chest aches, and he can't breathe.
"Sesshoumaru?"
Swallowing back the crushing reality of his folly, he reaches up and frames her face with his hands. "It feels presumptuous to ask for your forgiveness."
Averting her eyes, she almost puts her teeth through her lip, her struggle evident on her face. "It might be."
The truth cuts through him, and he's nodding, prepared to accept it when she speaks again.
"But that's going to be up to me."
She lies on his chest again, heaving a sigh.
