[ She's already happy, knowing that he isn't an ocean away. She has shown it, too, and she thinks he knows, but this is beyond some shallow, fleeting interpretation of happiness. What she wants is for him to be able to forgive himself, and see himself the way she does. Doesn't feel like he's there yet, but at the very least, this weekend felt like a step in the right direction.

A soft sigh as she admires the lily, and the way they hold it together. ]

It looks even more brilliant than it did when she gave it to me. So bright, almost like the moon. But I suppose I don't need the moon to express how I feel anymore.

...Maybe... I never did.