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“Fen'harel…?” She asks weakly, standing on the other side of the tiny table, a single step away and utterly beyond his reach.
“Vhenan-”
“No,” her voice breaks on the word and he trembles. He can feel blood on his hands where his nails are cutting into the flesh of his palms.
“I am so sorry,” He whispers, “You must understand-”
“Must I?” She’s trembling now. Her eyes, always so warm, are filling with tears. “You lied to me. You stayed in my home and slept… I trusted you.”
“Please,” his voice breaks, too, he feels the sting of tears building and shivers from the effort of restraining himself. He’s trying and failing to find the words, to explain his history and who he is and how he came to be here. To tell her, “It isn’t all lies.”
“I… I just can’t right now,” she says, thickly through the gathering tears. She turns her back on him.
“Kerra-,” He says, wounded, and he knows he shouldn’t. What he had done was immensely unfair to her, no matter his reasons.
She stops halfway to the door, fingers clenching on the edges of her short skirt.
“Listen, I need…” She takes a shaky breath and he knows she’s crying, “I need some time, okay?”
He swallows audibly when she turns, tear tracks on her cheeks.
“Stay here with Cole, okay? I'll…” She inhales sharply, and bolts for the door. He hears her breath hitching with a sob as she slams the door behind her and feels like he can’t breathe.
He stands in the tiny kitchenette feeling lost and certain he should leave after causing her so much pain. Cole comes out from wherever he was keeping himself during his conversation with Kerra and stands at his side.
“She wants you to stay. She wouldn’t have asked if she didn’t want it.”
“Thank you, Cole,” he says, softly, because it was something. She would come back and she hadn’t demanded he leave. Maybe she would listen. He didn’t dare hope for more.
She sits on the wobbly little table instead of in the chair. Leaning close and carefully avoiding the pages of the book he was reading. He looks up at her, sure he’ll never stop feeling relieved when she smiles at him.
“Did you need something?”
Her free hand cups his cheek and for a long moment, she only looks at him.
“I’ve been wondering… what do I call you?” She laughs at his confused expression, leaning down to kiss him lightly.
“Solas or Fen'Harel?” Her thumb brushes over his lower lip, “When we’re alone, what do I call you?”
He buries a hand in her dark hair and pulls her down to him. The hand on his cheek slips to the back of his neck to steady her, as he sucks lightly on her lower lip. He kisses her, open mouthed and hungry, pushing the book off the table and pulling her into his lap.
They part, catching their breath, and she says, “That wasn’t an answer.”
He just kisses her again.