Before he can react, she's across the couch, curling up on top of him, and fisting his shirt in her hands as she sighs. "I tried not to."
Sesshoumaru tilts his chin down, watches her close her eyes as he lets his arms fall around her. Hurt, heartache, and grief bleed through his defenses into his skin, chipping away at the control he's barely keeping together, and he holds her tighter, daring to let his lips brush her hair. "Why?"
Tears stick in her throat. "Because I'm temporary." She pushes up under his chin, seeking—giving—comfort. "And you're not."
