[Every time she shifts, he's almost hyper-aware of it. The tiniest movement settles him further into her arms. He takes advantage of the pauses inbetween their voices to listen to her breathing. It adds another layer of warmth to the situation, somehow. Another layer of awareness, another thing proving this is real.]

[Besides that...it's just nice.]

[Though still stuck in a tar pit of his own guilt, he can't help but contradict what she's saying. Half-hearted attempts to push her away again, while still enveloped in her arms. Of course, there's no fight in him anymore; and her element of surprise certainly helped get the jump on him.]

It's mine. [He mumbles, now muffled by not bothering to turn his head again.] ...Should've done it sooner. Should've...

[He trails off, simply leaning into her embrace. Always been a hypocrite, hasn't he? He knows it. Never stopped him. Not when a large part of his life centers around woulda, coulda, shoulda, and always will. The thing is, he wants to take the blame, here - and be blamed. As much as her hurt and anger in turn hurt him, it was justified. And so was her absence.]

[Feeling a comfort like this, so close to her... It's not right. He shouldn't be allowed this.]

Is it. [What should be a questioning tone falls flat. It's not overtly disbelieving - he wouldn't dare talk down to her, his lack of emotional strength right now notwithstanding. It's almost a knowing tone, seemingly as aware as Anabel is that she's not sure if it's true.] I can promise a lot of things, but we both know that doesn't change what's already hurt you.