[ he's right; this is all fleeting. elena knows it, feels it, lives and breathes it just as he is. just as they did back home. there they might have had a target to fight, a way to fight, but here all they have is people.
he's not in the mood, she knows it, but it's what she wants. (and he gives her that.) his hand in hers is still solid, and he's here and real when they stop in a cluster of bodies. she finds his gaze just a moment (she wants to give him what he wants too, despite all of this, with all of this) before stepping close, her hand hooking over his shoulder.
it's quiet where they are somehow, she takes a few moments to cling to that bittersweet happiness, the welcome ache she feels from being next to him, holding him. she exhales, and it's weighty; (she's longed for him.) a smile touches her lips and she feels the texture of his jacket. ] Which war was this?