[ He could've reneged on the vows and it would have been the easiest thing to forgive, not even registered as something that requires forgiveness. This is a horrible story. It isn't his fault if Asura chooses not to suffer hearing it. But his affirmation wallops her good.

Her eyes, huge and staring, dart up for a proper and honest look. How do I do this, what are the words I need, what, how, what do I do? She can't ask these things because he can't answer them. They're hers to figure out. ]

Okay. Okay, don't let go of me, please. [ Resolved to stay here, Paloma braves gripping the hand he'd lifted to push back the hair that'll just bounce into place in another moment. The dream remains, even clarifies, nothing so vivid as the smiling Kindred in front of his canvas, turning his pale face to watch her.

She watches him, too, afraid and accusing. ]

That's Carlos. He didn't need to take a class for beginners, he could paint anything, but he said it was a refresher. This is just some night. [ Nothing special about this date. Her palm slides across his, clammy and warm at the same time. ]

It was after another lesson he asked if I'd go to dinner with him. I thought he was playing a mean joke, but he meant it. And I did.