[ He thinks of the sight of the Queen falling to dust, her head severed, her thick blood running out across the marble floor. He thinks about the look in her eyes when she'd approached him with the intent to kill him for disobeying her. He thinks about the taste of her blood on his tongue, the fact that he could taste the undeniable proof that she thought he could be useful, that she had in her hands the purpose that he'd always been looking for... that she loved him.

Looking at the pools of water, it's very difficult to mistake them for blood, and so he slips easily from his reverie and back to the present. Back to this strange world that neither of them can call home, and back to the fire that forces them to be honest. ]

... It brought back.. memories. Of a time when I met the Goddess of the Vampires, the Queen of the Damned.

[ He doesn't think he has it in him to say her name, so instead he takes a step back and then another, until he can sit himself back down beside Demyx and push out a long, hollow exhalation from lungs that no longer need breath. ]

I didn't expect it to feel that way. For my heart to... ache, this much.