[ Her hand shifts to his chest, light where her weight is balanced on her knees. Her palm settling flat over his heart beat. A solid thud-thud-thud, felt against worn skin. Reassuring to it, steady as drums. She presses her lips together on the taste of him and it's remarkably simple to her, to take everything as her last. Because it's all it ever might be. Her last pieces of affection, her last shreds given to someone she knows will always view her, whatever else she might do, as herself. For all that might be.
no subject
The same way, she had always looked at him. ]
Miles, there is one last thing I must ask of you.