This was weird, in all the kinds of ways something could be weird, and Lexi shifted, uncomfortable. She had this strange impulse to keep the two men separate, or to push them closer together so that a choice never had to be made which way to stand. "I don't dream," she said, a little too loudly, wincing at the sound. "I don't," she tried again, voice less panicked, less defiant. "But..."
Her eyes slid over to Keiran's and a bit of that stubborn denial faded. "There are feelings. Like now. Like with both of you. Some others, too."
Shaking her head, Lexi shoved a hand through her hair, ignoring a need to reach out and find Kieran's fingers with her own, or to kneel down before Arthur in some sort of show of hopeless loyalty. "What are you saying? That we're all having some mass hallucination? I don't know you." It was a plea more than a statement, begging to let her illusions lie, to allow her - him - to rest in peace with his failures and his guilt. "I don't know him," she jerked her chin at Keiran. "So why do I feel as though I love you both more than my own breath? What possible sense does that make?"