[Pressed against her, he has given in partly because it’s so physically easy to collapse in on himself, shrinking, becoming as small as possible. What a horrible old habit it is, from the days when it was a survival skill. Now, there’s a certain sense of safety in the posture.

He exhales long and does not inhale for some time, until he can be sure he can do so quietly. Closing his eyes results in tears being knocked onto his cheeks, and the game is up. The next time he exhales, it’s in two chest-heaving, voiceless sobs. With the next breath, he finally begins to calm down. It’s not a forced collection of himself, but an actual easing of his spirit.

Then, he looks at her. His voice is thick, low, but calm.]

Do not mistake it, Elizabeth. It was a crime. That I was forced to commit it does not mean I did not commit it. At least…no, I understand why I would say differently to someone else. I understand why I would have been safe from the law. But Elizabeth, for the love of God I cannot accept it. Not for myself.

[His composure falters. His face crumples, and he buries it against her shoulder.]