[When Saber moves past, Zelgadis whirls around to try and head the opposite direction, far too late for anything but placing his already trembling hands on the barrier, helplessly. Gods damn these things!]
[A few seconds are wasted in impotent fury, then another few telling himself to knock it off. There's nothing he can do about the barrier, or his turbulent history with Saber, or the fact that he hates himself for the weeks and months he wasted after this happened to them last time. The only thing he can do is cling to the straws of what they've managed to form in recent days, no matter how it makes his hands ache and bleed, and hope it's not as fragile as he fears.]
...It's okay. [His voice is rough at the edges, but even. With great force of will, he turns to face Saber, does his best at an apologetic smile.] Don't worry, it won't be like before. I won't ask or expect anything you can't give, I promise. [There's a solidness to that last word, undeniable genuineness. Even if this isn't okay, not even almost, he'll make it okay. The alternative is too much to contemplate.]
[Resisting the urge to back against the barrier to support his weak knees, he releases a breath, demands his fists unfurl.] We'll just get out of here and then forget it ever happened.