Varkesh didn't answer her.
His body moved before he could think.
His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist before she could pull it away completely. The force wasn't strong, but it was enough to stop her from creating distance between them.
"…You don't get to say that." His voice came out rough and unsteady, but there was nothing weak about the grip he held on her.
Gwen froze.
For a moment, she didn't try to pull away.
"Forget you?" he continued, his breathing uneven as he forced himself to meet her eyes again. "After everything… You think I can walk away like that?"
His grip tightened slightly; for someone like the old Gwen, whose physique was noticeably frail, the pressure behind his hold would have been enough to make her flinch.
But she didn't. There was no reaction of pain.
Instead, her gaze dropped to where his hand held her, quietly acknowledging the difference for what it was.
She had changed.
When she looked back up at him, something in her eyes had shifted.
