"You succumbed to me?" Despite his overall somber mood, there's a touch of humor in the question. Mutual succumbing then, twisting into one another's orbits until it's difficult to imagine it was ever any other way or that it ever will be again. Despite his pursuit of her over the past several months, he'd always had the feeling of being the one pulled in her wake, falling into her gravity.

"He'd hate it, but he'd get it. He understood grief and loss." Crais' response was rage. He can't find it in himself to be angry, not about this. It's a heavier emotion weighing him down for now.

"You have a strong say, Miss Ives." Strange that being told he's not alone is its own kind of pain, a sweeter ache than loss. It will take time to adjust to this new reality, thought and deliberation on weighing the balance between accepting support without burdening. At times it's hard to remember how young she is when her soul feels so much older. He has no desire to saddle her with the weight of his years.

"I won't shut you out." It would be nigh impossible with their bond, but he believes he would not even without it. He didn't choose her to share his eternity on the periphery. They're in it together, messiness and all.