[ He rests his forehead against hers, breathing in her air, hands cupping her face. He did what needed to be done, and he would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant saving her. But he can't help the selfish feeling of relief that she's here in his arms, that he got to see her again, and not even for a final time. The implications of their stay here can wait — she is here with him, something he had resigned himself to never getting to have. He couldn't save her and keep her, and for him, the choice had been clear. ]
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That I would never see you again.
[ He finishes her thought, voice quiet. ]
I'm sorry.