[ In retrospect, it had been foolish for her to think that he would embrace her in return right after all that she's thrown at him. Her arms upon his shoulders slacken, her grip becoming lighter until she pulls partly away from him, allowing him his space. She finds not comfort in the way he looks at her, but conflict, further proof that he's still hurt.

Her voice trembles. ]

I've... never wanted to hurt you. Or anyone. [ A hand falls from his shoulder to the middle of his chest, and her eyes follow the movement as her palm rests above his heart. ] You know what I am, that doubt that I will harm others. You, too. [ So, wouldn't he be happy with someone else? He's speaking as if he wouldn't. He's insulted that she would suggest it. She doesn't understand. ] But I had forgotten it for a time, over the summer with you. [ Listening to herself, she feels she sounds pathetic, weak, for confessing her insecurities once more to him. At the same time she chastises herself for having forgotten in the first place when she had been so distracted by loving him. Loving him is wonderful. Having it slip her mind how harmful she could be to another, is not.

Her hand withdraws. ] A month ago... I was reminded of how important it is to not hurt you. [ Her eyes close briefly in a remorseful, heavy grimace. That's when the doubts began to resurface. Is she doing enough for him, is she harming him, could he not be happier with others instead? ]

...I failed that.