[The way she rubs her finger against his nearly makes him pull her in; the way she cups his cheek only adds to the temptation. He leans into the palm of her hand, closing his eyes, and has to stop himself from turning his head to kiss it.

So easy to live in this love, this moment. It could be the last, or it could be only one of many.

He opens his eyes, catches her gaze with his.]

You know what I want.

[You, for as long as I can have you.

He exhales, then adds,]

But I also don't want either of us to do something we'll regret.

I would be breaking faith with no one. You say you would not be: I want you to be sure. We have never touched each other in truth, but I remember every -- [Every inch of you, every breath.] Everything. There's a difference between something that fell on us and something we chose.

When I was a boy, I did not think I would ever marry. I had nothing to offer a wife and no reason to think I'd ever have funds to support a family. These last few years, now that things are different, I have known that I might have little choice in my bride. If I married, it would be for the North, not for who I wanted in my bed. Not for love of anything but my people, though it might be that love could grow.

But you and me -- this is a choice, now.

If we are lovers in truth, or more than that, we should be sure of it.