[Of course Jill knows; she knows it with absolute perfect clarity. Still, Clive's devotion to her never grows any less overwhelming in the very best of ways, and her gratitude for that – for him – will never know bounds. The years haven't been kind to either of them, and they've both been fractured in far too many ways, but everything they've endured has only made their bond unbreakably strong. Apart, they're incomplete; together, they fit so well that they form a cohesive whole.
Jill's never questioned this. She's never wondered whether they'll each remain by the other's side until the end. As she'd said to him on that other beach, on that other night, beneath a different moon, whatever he does and whoever he becomes, she will remain a constant in his life, forever by his side.
Words escape her at first, if only because she knows that this proposal confesses so much more than love and unity. It's a declaration that their struggles are over, and they're done carrying a dying world, and now it's finally, finally their time to simply exist, and that, too, is overwhelming. It's everything she ever wanted. And it will be hers – theirs – with a single word that she's all too happy to speak.
Reflex guides her to reach for his tears and catch them upon her thumb; love finds her continuing to caress his face afterwards, while her mind still struggles to catch up to her heart. When she does speak, it feels like a miracle that she can get it all out without sobbing.]
Yes, Clive. Yes, I'll marry you. There's much I need to figure out about myself, but there's one thing I hold true without any doubt at all: that I was born to be with you, and you to be with me, and so we shall be until our last dawn.
[Here, she moves to kiss him, but she can't. Emotion overtakes her once more, and she presses her forehead to his instead, feeling free enough, and safe enough, and sure enough to let everything everything come out.]
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Jill's never questioned this. She's never wondered whether they'll each remain by the other's side until the end. As she'd said to him on that other beach, on that other night, beneath a different moon, whatever he does and whoever he becomes, she will remain a constant in his life, forever by his side.
Words escape her at first, if only because she knows that this proposal confesses so much more than love and unity. It's a declaration that their struggles are over, and they're done carrying a dying world, and now it's finally, finally their time to simply exist, and that, too, is overwhelming. It's everything she ever wanted. And it will be hers – theirs – with a single word that she's all too happy to speak.
Reflex guides her to reach for his tears and catch them upon her thumb; love finds her continuing to caress his face afterwards, while her mind still struggles to catch up to her heart. When she does speak, it feels like a miracle that she can get it all out without sobbing.]
Yes, Clive. Yes, I'll marry you. There's much I need to figure out about myself, but there's one thing I hold true without any doubt at all: that I was born to be with you, and you to be with me, and so we shall be until our last dawn.
[Here, she moves to kiss him, but she can't. Emotion overtakes her once more, and she presses her forehead to his instead, feeling free enough, and safe enough, and sure enough to let everything everything come out.]