The hold that Nicholas had on her was limp now, allowing her easy freedom if that's what she wanted. She was in an awkward position between her side and her front facing him, so he adjusted her to view her face. At the moment, she looked a wreck. Face wet and red and already swelling from crying, hair frazzled as if it was radiating the negative energy. All in all, Nicholas noticed that she just looked tired. Mentally exhausted. He gathered that her mental and emotional exhaustion was his fault, and it broke his heart. It was never his intention to hurt her so badly.

Inevitably, she questioned his return. In truth, Nicholas hadn't prepared an answer. There was, of course, an actual answer -- but it wasn't one that he wanted to face immediately. It wasn't one that he wanted her to face immediately. It [i]was[/i] one that could be put off for at least a couple of months, he figured. So all he could do was stare for a moment, grimace as if he were in pain, then hold her against him, forceful enough that she wouldn't see his face at the moment.

"There's a reason," he said. His voice was finally cracking. It was all finally wearing him down. "I just don't want-- I don't...want...to worry about it right now. Things...have changed. A lot. So much."

It was true, at least, for him. Nicholas was going on to be twenty seven years old in a few months, but his face was rugged and toughened with the remains of battle scars and worry lines. Even his personality had changed -- he went from being a weak, helpless, nerdy coward to an independent, hardened man. His muscles had grown from his training. He'd lost so much weight.

"I know you can take care of yourself," he said. "But...I just want to make sure you're safe through anything that happens and...I just...love you, Mattie."