[ It doesn't really seem to occur to Alice at that moment Sion is offering a hand. Each minute, Alice seems to be growing more distant, looking at him with hollow eyes. She can hear him, still, and it's his voice that keeps her grounded.

Of all things.

By nineteen years old, Alice knows what it's like to drift off and she knows that it will come and take her, pull her down into the deepest depths of her mind. She stares at him as his words finally register and Alice glances down at his hand.

Hardly a flinch and not a word. Alice simply stares, still holding her knife. She's not sure of the gesture or what it means in this moment, only that she dislikes touch of any sort.

And then she steps back, as if Sion either had some terrible illness or as if he would strike her with that hand. ]

My happiness isn't important right now. [ Gwen who she's sure that she's already upset and another reason why Alice wishes to see her rest elsewhere for the night. Alice takes more steps back, keeping Sion in her line of sight. ]

I do wish things were different and it didn't have to come to this. I take no joy in what I did, only solace that we're safe.

[ Which is, to say, she believes her lack of action is still her fault. ]

I'll never ask you to do such a thing again.