She's been trying so hard to hold it together, flimsy bits of paper and string straining against a tidal wave of emotion. It's harder when he pulls her close; she hasn't been held by anyone since her death. And then he says those words.

She wants to tell him she loves him too. He's family, a dear friend who has been through so much with her, but the words can't make it past the tightness in her throat. The last time she'd said them to anyone it hadn't ended well, and she can't bear to lose him too. He's all she has left in the entire galaxy--

That thought is what crumples the flimsy dam, and in seconds she's falling apart, her hands clutching at him as sobs tears from her with such strength that she can barely stay upright. Her world is ending again and he is witness to it. Again.