The portkey dropped Alistair off about a mile away from Aveline's place, which meant he had a ways to walk. Which meant he had time to think. She was confused, she said. About You. Me. Us. It started blurring together in his head, youmeusyoumeusyoumeus, a rhythm in his head to match the rhythm of his feet.
Oh Maker, she hadn't spoken to him in days, this couldn't be good, whatever it was it could not be good. But he needed to tell her something. Before whatever not good things happened he had to at least make sure to tell her. Even if he shouldn't, he was going to do it anyway.
Alistair was all but running by the time he got to her house, and almost ran into the door by sheer force of momentum, he was in such a rush to just get to her before everything went wrong. He rapped on the door. Youmeusyoumeusyoumeus, shut up brain, you're not helping.