A/N: OK, here's the ACTUAL second drabble. Thanks to all the people who pointed out the error in the last paragraph (should've caught that...) Please tell me if you think I should make this into a story in your review, if you leave one. I'll love you forever if you do.
Thanks to PrettySiren for beta-reading. Much love. :-D
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V stood silently over the sleeping Evey. An observer might have said he was thoughtful, but the truth was he could barely breathe, let alone form a coherent thought. The sensation of Evey's soft breath on his face, her scent…it was very distracting. He whispered to her slumbering form, more for his benefit than for hers.
"I'm...I'm so very, very proud of you, Evey. The things you have done for this new England...it's more than I could have ever hoped for. And Evey, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for lying to you, and for breaking you. Who knew that torture couldn't damage you but the death of a single man could?" He paused, realizing he was babbling. He knew he should make his point before she woke up. "Evey, I...I hope you're healing. I never wanted to see you so fragile, so isolated. I wish with allthat I have that you will heal one day."
"I can't heal without you, V," Evey said stiffly, her eyes still closed."Evey?" V breathed. She was awake.
Evey turned over to face him. Her tone had been cold, but when her eyes opened they were full of tears and a rich, messy mixture of emotions. She rose to her knees and pulled him close, her petite, skinny arms squeezing the air out of his lungs. She sobbed, shaking vehemently, and before long, so was he. They collapsed on Evey's bed in the Shadow Gallery, crying until they had no more tears left.