( he doesn't want to stay. he doesn't to relive a moment in his life that fills him with irrefutable fear and a deep-aching sorrow and rage. no. they don't have to stay, but in suggesting it, he knows that is what they will do. what he'll do. he exhales in a slow release as his eyes, certain with decision, linger on hers. he wanted to build that wall a moment ago, but her offer reminds him of how easily and without regret it can be and has been torn down.

how perhaps he needs it to be. wants it to be. perhaps it's time.

she loves him. she has seen his shortcomings, his remorses and traumas, his terrors and mistakes, and she has not made him feel any less for them; like a monster or a misfit.

his hand falls to hold hers. (he doesn't want to do it alone.) he steps back slowly to make his intent clear, to ask for her to follow, and then he turns to open the door.

the scene has re-looped when they step inside. after a moment, he says, his voice wistful and thick, ) He’s so much like me. I want him to suffer for what he’s done... and I know I failed him.

This was the moment. ( tears prick his eyes. ) I didn’t know it at the time, but... this... was when I lost everything.