When he sunk onto the bed with her, Charlotte held her breath from anticipation before feeling it leave her when he began to speak, comfort her as best he could. The only thing was that his words effected her little, she was numb to such words of consolation, after all. They all sounded the same, and in the end, offered her nothing but empty compassion. Meaningless in its fragility.

"I'm not shutting myself away," she sighed, unable to understand why he had to do this, surmising it was for his conscience. Sometimes others simply did not know when to offer what matteerd most, and when to restrain what made no impact.

"But, I don't know what to do. What to say. Char, what happened, it was horrible. To lose everything you worked so hard for - Char...I can't pretend to know that loss. But, they didn't take your life. You're doing that on your own."

Closing her eyes, Charlotte drew closer to him, her lips pausing before his own. She parted them before her fingers, tentatively, danced along his shoulder, the words effectively quiet, "My life is here. With you. Make me see that then."

And without a word, her lips pressed to his again.