“Coleen, you are not listening to me.”
“I wasn’t aware you needed me to,” Coleen replied wryly, rubbing at her hands where they had been grasped about the handle of the broom. Emil had yanked it from her fingers. It seemed that being immortal hadn’t done anything for her physically. Dying had hurt.
It meant it had hurt every time Emil had died. Yet he had said nothing.
It had hurt when she had died too, when the Faith had run her through, as Ami caressed her and told her the things Coleen had not wanted her to say. ‘Yes, that is what you thought you wanted, Ami. But now you can find another way to be happy. Yes, you will. You do not need me. I have made myself irrelevant to happiness.’
“You are a fool.” Emil saying as such was nothing new, so Coleen ignored it. “It seems odd to say something like this, considering what you tend to enjoy. You need a hobby.”
What she tended to enjoy? Nothing at this point. Coleen had told him as much when they had arrived in this place. Emil had his life now. His mortal life. It was time for him to grow older and die. He really should not have been spending time with her. Did he not know how much it might hurt?
Of course he did.