"I think you're right," she murmurs, stubborn enough not to want to admit it, but out of other options.
It's funny, because she doesn't want to leave him-- but at the same time, she misses... well, him, and she misses not feeling so out of place every time she looks at anything around her. And there's the elephant in the room, the intrusion in her skull, the clock ticking down towards an end that might be inevitable after all.
There are worse places to die than beside Mulder, of course. But she doesn't want to. More than ever, she doesn't want to.
She twists and leans up to kiss his cheek, because it's all she can reach without risking spilling her coffee over both of them.
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It's funny, because she doesn't want to leave him-- but at the same time, she misses... well, him, and she misses not feeling so out of place every time she looks at anything around her. And there's the elephant in the room, the intrusion in her skull, the clock ticking down towards an end that might be inevitable after all.
There are worse places to die than beside Mulder, of course. But she doesn't want to. More than ever, she doesn't want to.
She twists and leans up to kiss his cheek, because it's all she can reach without risking spilling her coffee over both of them.