Her hands twitched at her sides as he moved away. She wanted to reach out to him, and she couldn't. She couldn't even ask Peter to send her younger self here to comfort Aidan, because Aidan still had some drying out to do. Evey should leave. She knew it. That was the right move - to step around him and walk out his door and leave the two of them to each other and go see if John...
Her eyes slid over Aidan's dark head and toward the entryway to the kitchen. The only trouble with that very good plan was that she was utterly incapable of leaving Aidan like this. After a few moments of her own private war, she sat down in front of him, legs crossed, elbows on her knees. Again, her fingers twitched, and again she mastered herself. She wasn't going to sabotage the two of them. Not even in this. But it hurt. It hurt to see him suffering because of what she'd said. Because of what she felt.
And it would do none of the four of them any good if she ever admitted to anyone, anyone else, anyone at all, that Aidan... That Aidan... That she still... But no, she couldn't even approach the thought in her own head. She'd done it once, and once was enough, just enough to let her recognize it so she could try to move through it. He didn't want her anyway. He'd already told her as much.
And still...
Evey curled her fingers tight around her kneecaps.