You know, an apology almost makes it [i]worse?[/i]

Up until now, she's been able to put it out of her mind. It's been non-stop crisis, one after another. It's been Salib, and Sagakhan, and Barassidar, and saving the ship again and again. Even when sprinting across the ship to save him, she could focus on finding and saving Mynx from herself.

But now here he is, and here she is, and he's in front of her, and she has no choice but to remember the good month or two where every time she saw a vent in a hallway, she passed by on the other side. She has to think about how she jumped at every noise from the wall in her quarters until eventually she moved the furniture to block the noise. She has to remember seeing him in ship meetings and surrounding herself with friends out of, out of some idea that if she's surrounded by other people, she can't be hurt.

And he wants to apologize, and all she can do is clutch an arm, and stare at him, and wish she still had a throat full of moss.

He's doing better, yes. He's going out of his way to apologize when he didn't have to. To admit fault--he, the head of all Hermetics on board, admitting he made a mistake! In public, in front of his peers!

And is sitting there, doing the polar opposite of fidgeting--as if by stillness, he can pass on the nervousness to her and force her to fidget in his stead--and damn his eyes if it isn't working.

"… That's the first step," she eventually says, still not meeting his eyes. "And I am glad that you are making that progress. It is always difficult to change."