"You're her, aren't you?"
❝Who ? ❞
She doesn't grasp the weight behind his words, the startling importance of his realization. Instead, she is flippant and blind, an eyebrow arched and a thin smile cast his way, with the weary intent to humour his soft-spoken accusation.
This all circled back to his lingering conviction he knew her from somewhere, something, long before the present, didn't it ? It isn't as if she isn't used to his scrutiny at this point, his intent to place her somewhere within the depths of absent and missing memories, to pin her down as someone. Her firm and unfaltering denials of any past relations with the man, however brief, held no weight in his beliefs, accomplishing little more than a grimace on his part, and an almost imperceptible shake of the head.
She does not have the advantages he does. She lacks the knowledge he possesses, the subject of a singular timeline. He is adjusting, caught here and belonging there, unraveling the mess of too many conflicting memories to, finally, grasp at what had long time stood just out of reach. She will never achieve the same lucidity, never know the relevance of him as he has found with her.
❝You're going to have to elaborate. But I doubt that I am.❞
