Dysnomia was silent for long seconds, the time passing between them like sand, trickling slowly in the space between their skin. Her mind was working furiously to try and understand what Morpheus was trying to tell her, but the understanding was slow in coming. All that was present was a heavy feeling in the pit of her belly, like a stone, pulling her down.
"What if I wasn't here this time?"
What? She couldn't imagine a time when Morpheus wasn't there. Couldn't recall one. He was a constant presence in her life, like her mother, like Aunt Bella. How could that be possible?
"You have no idea what you pulled me away from."
There was a look in his eyes that she didn't know, so she looked away, staring through his shirt like she could see the beat of his heart, just inches away. There were inches between their bodies, scant breaths of air, but she'd never felt further away from him. Her body was moving, following all of the steps, but her mind was somewhere else. There was no feeling in the dance.
"Because I won't come running every time. I can't. Not anymore."
What?
She felt still and heavy, weighted down, like the air before a storm, burdened with the promise of rain and thunder. Even the rowdy old Irishmen in the corner had gone quiet. Her lips moved soundlessly as she tried to figure out how to piece together a reaction to his words. Anger? Tears? Should she laugh and shake it off? For some reason, an edge in Dream's voice, maybe, she knew that wouldn't work this time.
"You're my friend," she murmured, her eyes moving to their clasped hands. She could feel him, there, but he wasn't really there at all, was he? She realized with a shock that there were parts of him he didn't share with her, things about his life that he kept to himself, that didn't involve her, that he didn't want her to know. She couldn't have failed him. It didn't work like that.
"I'm your friend." She paused, bit at her lip. The other option was screaming and throwing things. Was that what she should do? "I don't understand."