"I...I know it is rather late, Miss Evelynn. I did not want to interrupt the other gift-givers so, I apologize for my timing. I...I wanted to give you a gift closer to my heart, if that is alright, you've done so much for me since we've met and there isn't anything I can do to repay you. At least never in full," The whisper of his voice falls off as he glances to the clock, then returns his gaze to her while reaching into his pocket to offer her a small scrapbook. "I've often found myself inspired by your muse, almost as if I've known you for a very long time and...Well, you've become a large part of my life."

The book was full of photos from week one, simple ones of their brunch outings, concerts, her with a face mask on, a candid shot of her when she was able to meet little Linnet and Wren. There was a crappy little crayon drawing with a crude depiction of her and Linnet holding hands--obviously the young girl had drawn it. And the final photo, one of her sitting infront of a large cake surrounded by KDA, Robin, with Abel standing off to the side; dated May 1st.

"I...I know it isn't...special or expensive, but I..." He turned away, unable to meet her eyes, "I wanted to document all of our time together, it's been some of the happiest days of my life. I only hope that...well, that you feel the same way. I'm sorry...this was too forward, wasn't it?" - @witchcraftandburialdirt

It had been non-stop all day, human after human (with the exception of the double visit of Abel -- how irritable) visiting to shower her with gifts and knacks. While some certainly brought a genuine smile to her, a tender warmth that radiates her chest. If, her guests had only been the ones she held close, that would have been fine.

But no, the BLADES had sent a plethora of gifts too. Somehow she has to deal with the burden of all of that.

She's barely suppressing a headache, arm blocking out as much light possible from tired eyes. Though she doesn't reply right away to the human who sits next to her, Evelynn doesn't mind too much as he begins speaking. He was, after all, one of the few souls she swore upon keeping safe.

Gradually does she shift into a sitting position, grogginess consuming her body. Drowsiness collecting in golden slits, barely able to make the scrapbook he collects from his side (the lighting of his room certainly didn't help matters either, but she wasn't going to bark at him when he's already given her a place to escape). "You could have visited anytime," her voice is but a low mumble, all but further conveying how tired she is.

Finally her eyes focus properly on the scrapbook, body tensing at the photographs. A blessing, and a curse, to have such a memory that she can recall every word said in each of these photos -- the letter she received with the (admittedly awful) drawing of herself and his younger sibling. And the last photo, it brings a soft chuckle. It's so incredibly candid and she's not certain when it was taken.

But that laughter falls into a frown, emotions bubbling up that she wasn't aware of until a gasp so light and unlike her. His words don't entirely reach her, for she knows as soon as cheeks dampen what's happening. While such a notion shouldn't draw her to tears, it does for the sole purpose that there's a dreadful wish; one that can never truly be fulfilled, that such devices existed back then.

To capture the faces and memories that are becoming adagio, the slightest of blurs that begins to haunt her.

Evelynn doesn't reply right away, hands that so so carefully take the scrapbook and set it aside on the couch. For she takes a gentle grip on his arms, a small shake to grasp his attention, so he can see the vulnerability she wears. The tears that continue to stride. "No -- no, darling." Is said between a hiccupped breath, forcefully tugging him closer into a tight embrace.