It was all coming out, exorcist word vomit - and if Beverly was shocked to hear him apologizing, it didn't register on her face exactly. Not yet. Her eyes glowed electric blue, moisture brimming there, and she was unable to stop a sniffle that made her feel childish. The sadness, the sorrow - it was like a dreary dark house in a rain-soaked night, it covered her like a cloak.
Because what was he even... "You don't need to apologize to me," she insisted, taking both of his hands in hers. She didn't check for the scars on his wrists, just clenched his fingers tightly as a way to anchor herself. "I should be apologizing to you, and I want to - for being too late. I should have - something. Been there. With you, for you - I saw us all consumed by everything the way you were and I was too late."
Her voice cracked on those words too late. She'd been too late and it was a ghost, his ghost, that would settle in the corner of her mind and remain there, always.