They're just going to keep making each other weep if they continue like this. Azwel sniffs, rubbing his wet nose, slowly realising his tears have left wet spots on Rip's shirt. He's pretty certain she doesn't mind any more than he minded hers, but he still takes several deep breaths in an attempt to stop. It's exhausting and he's already feeling terrible.

"We do," he murmurs into her shoulder. "And we will... for as long as we can." He pauses, hesitating over whether he should air the rest of his thoughts. They're vague notions, untested and thus unproven, and yet they can't be reasoned away.