She was watching the way his hands moved when he opened the gift, watching the way the light from his room caught the blue tinted tags. She was subconsciously committing things to memory; his scent, his voice, the layout of the room, the colour of his hair. It disgusted her on some level, to be this attached and sappy. "Aye, Kanji...Japanese." She was Japanese, it only made sense.
"I had them custom made for you. A small piece of home and a small piece of - " she cut herself off, finding it hard to say the next word. But with a shaky, defeated voice, she said, " - of me."
"I...don't know what happens now, because I want to remain a part of your life. I'm not sure I can at the moment. I can't even believe I considered sharing you like some toy, but...part of me, a small, weak part, wants to. Desperately wants to cling to you and keep you...and part of me never wants to see you again. I would 'feel' him on you and be hurt all over again. You hurt me, Michael. You...will he stop your nightmares now?" She regarded him curiously, eyes narrowed slightly and hands hanging by her side. It hurt to breath, to stand here in his presence and feel like he betrayed her.