Pansy stood silently for a few more lingering moments, intent on holding her ground. She was the one who chose for whom to make time. She was the last one the back down because she was always in control. But not here, not with him. She was never in control when it came to Anthony and she was a fool to try to convince herself otherwise.
Her hands fell away from her arms as her features visibly softened and a sense of dread boiled in the pits of her stomach. Surely he wasn't contemplating suicide again. Hadn't she impressed upon him how ridiculous the idea was? She didn't want to hear him say it again, didn't want to think of him anything but alive, unlike the Lovegood girl.
And so she stepped closer to him, her small hands taking his calloused hands and pulling his arms around her as her eyes imploringly searched his. She pressed her cheek against his and let her hands move to rest on his chest over top of is shirt. "I missed you," she whispered as she closed her eyes. He'd wanted to see her. And she wanted him to be here, what was the point of denying it? "Oh, Anth, I've missed you so much." Even if he laughed her off, at least she'd finally said it.