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Sleep was more fitful than usual through the surges of guilt and shame and regret that fought to talk Mimsy out of some perceived 'right' to be here, in this room, in this bed, in this relationship. It came and went like an uncurable nausea each time she woke, incapable of ridding herself of it or earning any sense of relief, only managing to nod off again when the arms around her hugged more tightly each time her chest began to hurt or her hands began to paw miserably at her throat. It was a balm that she welcomed, even if it was temporary, because she couldn't stand to be alone with those thoughts. She had never been good at it, and they were so much worse now, streaked with blood, pain, and tears that she was the cause of.

It never seemed wrong. Not once. Not until today.

The sleep was not very restful, but it had been the best solution; when she woke, there was an absence that felt more familiar, an emptiness that she was used to. She sighed, relieved, and carefully unwound herself from Robert, who had been curled around her as per usual.

After watching him for a moment to be sure that she avoided waking him, she sighed again, troubled, and slid her feet off of the bed, toes pressed against the cool floor. One hand moved to cover her mouth as she sat up, and the other soon followed, remaining there when she leaned forward and put her elbows on her knees. It was not unlike the timid posture she'd assumed when the effect first took hold - the remorse was gone, but she remembered everything, and this didn't feel like an improvement.

Her head turned just enough to look at him out of the corner of her eye, and she held her breath, body remaining entirely still as her mind frantically attempted to calculate a plan.

The name startled Mimsy, and she jumped a bit at the sound of it, restlessly tense until she registered that it was meant to be her name. A slow exhale passed through the spaces between her fingers as she tried to calm down again, hoping to recollect her thoughts. None had been especially promising, but there was comfort in considering them anyway.

For a short while, she didn't move, her hands still pressed firmly over her mouth. Indecision was a powerful paralytic. She was not anywhere near a semblance of a reliable choice of action. It was so easy to get lost when nothing made sense to her, and the freedom that came with it was so good at misdirection. This now made multiple times that she had chosen to wander back into an uncharted forest devoid of any clearly marked paths, and she was more unsure this time than she thought she had ever been. She couldn't think. She didn't know. She was wary of who she was. And she couldn't see the way out anymore.

She wasn't sure if she wanted to.

When one hand finally broke away to reach towards him, the outstretched fingers were shaky with uncertainty. If she touched him, she would prove herself undoubtedly present, and could imply many other things with the contact at all. Was that the correct answer? What was she supposed to do?

Her fingertips brushed his skin and she gave in, hand slipping into his, just in time to let it close around her palm.

"Not quite," she murmured. It was meant to teasingly correct him, but it came out too tentative; once she'd said it, she wasn't sure what she meant after all.

Though the ways that Robert physically showed his affection were now well within the range of familiarity, Mimsy still found them entirely unpredictable. It never would have occurred to her to think that he would want to hold all of her, not just her hand, despite the countless number of times he had already done such a thing. She moved to willingly, as she had for a while now, and settled her spindly body against him as best she could. He filled the gaps she missed.

It curbed the anxiety, and though her mind wandered back to all of her distressing thoughts, she felt a bit more promise in the circumstances.

"Ah, I suppose that you fixed it." She closed one eye and scrunched up her nose as the words tickled her skin. The words weren't entirely untrue, because he had fixed her pretend problem, but the things that gnawed at her mind still remained.

Maybe he could fix that too. This was based more in emotion than not, and she continually fell short as a result.

"Did you mean what you said yesterday?" It was all she could manage to say, her voice still hushed and scratchy from all of the crying she had done in the midst of her guilt. In no way was her body prepared to handle that; she felt sore and tired, and even if it was from a lack of sleep, the sensitivity was to blame.

Hearing that noise of contentment was another easy distraction, and Mimsy took the opportunity. Historically, no person or creature alike had ever readily shown their happiness towards her - largely because she definitely didn't do anything that should be making them happy. Her actions were not drastically different now, but Robert was. There was a distinct lack of fear or disgust for her within him, where most would have run away or given up to save themselves.

Maybe it would all be okay.

"Of course you meant it when you said it. I asked the wrong question," she admitted. "But do you still feel that way? Do you still mean every word?"

The question had already been answered in part, but it was of paramount importance to know what, if anything, had only been a product of guilt. She had to know, because she had too many concerns about her own admissions to doubt his too.

"Every word?" she repeated, just to be sure. There was an abnormal inflection, her voice a little higher than usual, strained with hesitation. "What about your certainty that you are where you should be? What about the permanence of your love? Would...does anything I said change how you would feel today? Every word?"

Mimsy couldn't hide how scared she was, and being that afraid in itself made it worse.

It only took the first four words for Mimsy to begin to feel relieved, and she hungrily accepted it, clinging to every shred of solace as he continued to explain. She needed every ounce of it to bear the weight of worry as she tried to manage an understanding of what this meant. What he said was good in the sense that his confessions had been tremendously beneficial for her, but were still an incredible risk; she knew that it was the way she felt during that gathering that made her say what she'd said. It was terrifying to think that she no longer had any idea if she meant any of it, unnerving not because she necessarily wanted to, but for the fact that she was no longer certain of what she wanted to mean at all.

Each time she tried to think this through created another instance of an infinite error loop. She bit her lip and willed herself to look at him, in spite of how badly she wanted to turn away and hide herself until she figured out what - or who - she was showing him. If she didn't know who she was right now, how could she sustain any sense of security?

How could she ensure that she was who he needed?

"Being needed is positive. It is indicative of an incomparable depth of connection. Why do you think that is selfish?" Her eyes closed tight, a moment after he closed his. That seemed so minimal to all that she had considered selfish yesterday, and if he didn't want to be that way, she didn't know how he could possibly stand to know how selfish she was. "Are you not allowed to need me? Are...you concerned that I am incapable of fulfilling what it is that you need? It that what it is?"

That had to be it. From the beginning he'd known she could not function in ways that were 'normal', and he must have been reluctant to give her that responsibility when it was inevitable that she would ruin it. She was silent for a while, before more panicked words pushed through the lump in her throat.

"Uh. I love you, also," she whispered. All of her information indicated that he needed her to say it, and she so scarcely did. He would be right if he thought this was nearly impossible for her to handle on her own.

She just didn't want it to be so obvious.

The anxieties that were quickly spiraling out of control paused themselves and began to slowly unfurl again, halted by his insistence. All of the initial ones remained, but it was manageable now, contained to a less frantic point.

"Is it?" she squeaked, conflicted with the differing sensations of both hating and being pleased that she was incorrect. "While I am glad that you wanted to avoid being angry at me, I must admit...I would be mad if you left. Is that wrong? I am, er, having some difficulty as of late, and I am simply curious to know. If it is wrong, I mean."

Even though everything he told her contradicted them, her doubts were persistent things, and seeing his reaction to her attempt to prove her worth continued to keep them at bay. This was a good sign, because it meant she must have done at least some portion of it correctly. She tipped her chin up, cleared her throat, and tried again, determinedly looking him in the eye as she placed her hand flat against his cheek.

"I love you," she repeated, more steady the second time. Learning to smile like everyone else had taken practice, but she had (almost) perfected it by now. Maybe this would just take practice too. Soon it might not even feel strange, like smiling!

Svensyl laughed, as he did every time she tried to place abnormal labels on normal stages of a relationship. She still didn't get it, and probably never would, but he found her struggle for normalcy terribly amusing. It reminded him of someone who was wholly certain that they were drowning in water that barely surpassed their ankles.

There were stranger things where he came from, so he just let her be.

His tone was not one that Mimsy would typically have wanted to hear paired with that statement, but it made her smile as he elaborated, mouth slowly showing the tiniest hint of teeth. This was unexpected, and she liked it very much.

"Good. I strongly believe that anything but this would be disastrous regardless. Besides..." She slipped her hand away from him and pulled his hand along with her, bringing it to rest against her cheek instead. Her uncertainties were not nearly settled yet, and it never hurt to have additional reassurance to help. "I will need you for as long as you live, remember? And, possibly, for some undetermined length of time after that. I detest the idea of abruptly ending this, or leaving it unfulfilled, and the idea that you would fight to prevent that from occurring is a very satisfying one."

There was a darkness in her eyes and a faint sickness in her stomach, and she thought of anything but the potential of any correlation between the two.

"But...if it was wrong...would you still do it? Would you do anything that was wrong, because you love me?" Her gaze flickered upward to gauge his reaction, nails idly trailing in straight lines across his chest as she waited. Current evidence based on his prior actions already proved that there were several morally reprehensible things that he would do for her sake - maybe it was time to see how far this could go again.

And this was better than thinking about how far she was willing to go now, anyway.

"Ahh." Too cautious to move anything other than her mouth at the moment, Mimsy gently kissed his finger and stared at him, brows knit with something that almost looked like guilt. It missed the mark, if what she looked like at the meeting was any indication. The reality of the expression was more akin to a scolded child who knew they should be apologetic, but had no idea why.

He answered the question for her, and had clearly only asked it to make his point, but she couldn't help considering the idea, just to know if he had answered correctly. Would she give up science if he asked? It was a challenging undertaking that had worked as a crutch and a comfort, had led her down the paths she needed to travel, had served as a medium to showcase what she thought were astounding levels of brilliance, and it was difficult to imagine what life might be without it now. An impossible exercise, really.

Not that it was relevant anyway, she reminded herself. Giving up science would mean giving him up too.

So she'd keep it, and she could have it all. Everything she wanted, given enough time.

She smiled.

"It makes me happy to hear, and I assure you that I will remember. You were right to believe that." At least, he was now; with this information, she knew what to avoid and what to approach more carefully in the future.

"In the interest of being fair, and continuing the trend of truthful disclosure...I would do so many immoral things for you," she whispered, barely suppressing a lopsided grin.

She would do so many immoral things anyway, but he probably already knew that