[The pull to his heart… be still, her own. It is, once again, surprisingly tender; through the swirl of self-loathing, Aubrey wonders how long Sunny’s been like this.

[She tugs her weary, still-gleaming eyes up to meet his, and nods, more resolute. It’s not a surrender this time; it can be a promise.]

Together now.

[Her hands clasp at his heart.]