Her words brought him back to her again. He shook his head once, feebly, despite his efforts. "Not yet... Not yet perfect. Not until you."
When. When. He couldn't hold onto when. There was yet work to be done - sets, the practices... Hannibal would know his part soon. Magdelene would follow. "When it is time," he said, his melodic dark voice slithery with exhaustion. The words sounded as if they'd dredged the bottom of his lake and emerged just barely above the surface. He let them float before sinking back down again.
"Go," he said when the silence was enough. "Learn." It was dark, which meant it was night... but she was here, and awake, and more alive and vibrant than he could recall. She seemed to glow under the faint lamplight, her skin luminescent... altogether beautiful.