Luke caught the sadness in Rae's smile. He felt his frown deepen, and for a moment he considered saying something -- something about understanding, about the little pang of recognition he felt when thinking of the things that hurt her. Loss. Luke didn't know what it was like to watch the love of your life die slowly, or to hear the gunshot that killed them from somewhere over your shoulder. He hoped he never would. But he did know what it felt like to be without, to be missing something and know it everyday.
All the time. Talking about it was useless.
Unsure what to do with himself in the silence, Luke shook his mystery box again, looking it over a second time for any kind of name or clue. The lack was frustrating, and Rae's mention of secret admirers only irritated him further. Not that they weren't worthy.
"Same time," he grumbled at last, flopping down on the bed alongside her. "Counting down... 5..."