Helen let him steer her toward the couch, and when they sat down she sat as close to him as she could get without actually sitting in his lap. She was completely disjointed and still hazy from everything. She didn't have a good explanation for any of it. Except for tonight. She remembered everything from the time she saw Achilles in that doorway to this moment. Achilles had been her savior and she wasn't goin to forget that anytime soon.
Helen couldn't bring herself to look him in the eyes and instead stared down at her hands. They were already starting to bruise and hurt more as she acknowledged what she had done after Paris was dead. She took a deep, shaking breath and, hoping this was the last time she would ever gave to say the name, said in a small voice, "Paris."