Even just a month ago, she might have made some joke in an attempt not to be too honest, too vulnerable. But now, standing here on this stupid island, the cut on her temple sticky with drying blood, every annoying festival goer and cultist around them saying something stupid and more ridiculous than the last, all she does is shake her head.

"It's bloody terrifying," she tells him, but the corners of her mouth curve into a smile. Her hands lift to rest against his chest, feeling his heart beat beneath her palm. "But no, it isn't so bad. In fact, I think I might kind of like it."