[They're sitting in the sand, suddenly. In the dirt. She was kneeling but she falls down on her butt, staring at him, eyes so wide they're white all around, mouth half-open like she's trying to catch something, or eat the moment whole. Her fingers shake as she reaches for him, gritty hands rough against his cheeks as she cups his face.]

You're real.

[Awed.]

Alex? Something bad happened.

[No, wait, that's not right. She shakes her head violently, hands coming down to grip his shoulders.]

Bad things happened — but you, something bad happened to you. But I found you, I knew — it can't fucking beat us, Alex. Not us.

You're okay, right? You're not hurt? [She says. With crispy hems. With manic eyes and melted buttons. Her grip is way too tight to be safe for her fingers or his skin.]