[Sunny is never this bold. Wasn’t back then, isn’t here, not until now, now, now—

[Aubrey is pulled down with him, and he doesn’t stop kissing her, and she doesn’t hesitate, not for a second. He doesn’t want her to die, but she’d do anything for him, no matter how much her heart breaks. Sunny is alive; close; she’ll keep him that way until they’re seeing stars and then some.

[It’s not soft. The motion is gentle but, as Aubrey pulls his warm body flush, it feels anything but. It can’t be all gentle because it feels like goodbye, and for someone so loathe to let go, goodbyes are nothing less than a yearning claw, grabbing, pulling, gnawing, until something finally snaps, and they’re split forever.

[She can’t let that happen yet. Not with Sunny. She kisses him again, again, again—
[And yet, within days Aubrey will be in the labyrinth. He should smother her while he can.]