[Ouch. He shifts a little uncomfortably, his fingers tightening around the teacup's handle, and his gaze lingers on his automail hand. The one she'd built for him, just like she'd built his leg- so he could stand, so he could walk. And he'd walked away from her every time.
It's no wonder; walking away had never been as hard as sitting here with her, hearing those words.]
...You don't have to miss me here. [Not now. He can't really promise her more than that, and he feels a little twinge of guilt for that, much as he hates it. He has to go back. He has to. For Al, for all of them. It all comes back to the Promised Day.
One day more. Why couldn't they have waited one day more?]
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It's no wonder; walking away had never been as hard as sitting here with her, hearing those words.]
...You don't have to miss me here. [Not now. He can't really promise her more than that, and he feels a little twinge of guilt for that, much as he hates it. He has to go back. He has to. For Al, for all of them. It all comes back to the Promised Day.
One day more. Why couldn't they have waited one day more?]