He hated how awkward it was. Of course it was entirely reasonable "It had been filthy. And there was nothing in the house by way of cleaning products so I had to purchase some. Luckily there was still money. It took quite some time but its better. Things are better this way. Everything is ordered. You know."
He was trying. Focusing. Getting routine back. Everything he needed to do to be normal. To be safe. But he wasn't sure he could ask the same normalcy from her, her eyes a telltale sign that things were still as messed up as they had been when he'd fallen into hell.
The flinch brought on a twitch, he glanced from her to the dresser suddenly very aware one of the bottles was facing the wrong way around. So he fixed it, three times before it was right and looked back at her, there was one thing she still hadn't grasped. "Its been 50 years, at least. You should know that, and all the time in the pit it wasn't just Lord Harry. He eventually gave in a decade or so back, decided if we were going to suffer it might as well be me rather than him. And so since then I've been acutely aware of just how much I missed you and how much of what happened is my fault. My weakness. I've seen it, rewatched every failing, both here and back home time and time again, I've watched every second in glorious technicolour and it all boils down to the fact that I can't ever be good enough for you. You were right, I should live in a cave. With a sign, and a bell. Its dangerous knowing me and even more dangerous loving me and yet even now, even in spite of everything all I want to do is have you in my arms again."
The rug on the floor had gotten crumpled, probably the pacing from earlier. Two creases. No three, three.