"I am not going today," he said softly. "At least, not now. I might later, if the weather holds."
He was silent a moment, looking at her. He did not mean to frighten her. He was certainly not going to be telling her he wanted to be apart, or that he was unhappy with her. Valar, how could he be unhappy with her? She was like an angel to him, so ancient, and yet so full of life and joy. Or...at least she had been, until he had upset her so. This past week she had been...restrained, which was unlike her. He dearly wished to see her dancing barefoot outside again, like she was meant to do.
"I should like...to speak of what has come between us," he said gently, reaching out to take her hand. "Because I do not wish for it to be there anymore. I do not wish to fight with you. I love you, Itarillë, and I do not like this distance."