If there had ever been a time when Terrence would have felt it appropriate to tell Ella how he felt, it had long since passed. She'd always known, of course, just as he'd always known how she felt, but there was no denying it anymore, even if he'd wanted to. He didn't mind, because he didn't have to waste words trying to explain himself, didn't have to make any extra effort to prove that he cared. It overwhelmed him all the same, but it was overwhelmingly good, and he wouldn't have traded it for anything in the world.
He kissed her back, lingering over it, until he heard an ominous crack from above. Then he pulled back, and helped her to her feet, muscles trembling from the energy - physical, emotional, and magical - he'd used in the last few hours. Then he turned on the spot and Apparated away with her, back to his bedroom just before the house collapsed around them.
He'd wanted to respond, but he'd needed to get them out of there, and when he landed, he started to cough. He fell back on the bed, reveling in the cool, clean air and the feeling of her soul sinking deeper into the fibers of his being. "You're not ever getting your soul back," he said, looking up at her through heavy-lidded eyes. "Just so you know."