Was he drunk? Well. That’s was a stupid question. He is. He’s never not some type of intoxicated and so when she is there, standing there right in front of him he’s swallowing down the lump in his throat. She’s reaching for him and he’s watching her arm, her hand come closer and closer until her chilly little fingers are stuck on his pulse.
It’s jumping. His heart is beating frantically. He’s terrified of this illusion.
Bunny’s ghost has come all this way to haunt him.
It’s slowly dawning on him, like that smile she’s giving him. That big, bright smile that only one person in the whole world could shine on him is knocking him back and his legs give out. He lands on his knees with no pain and his arms reach out and bring her in close to him so that he can bury his face in her stomach, hiding his tears and his guilt and letting the gush of relief wash all the doubt away.
“Ye were dead. I thought ye were gone…” The grip is hard around her hips, he’s locked himself around her, locked her to him. If she thinks she’s getting away from him she has another thing coming.