[ lumine falls silent in the aftermath of his words, her expression visibly hurt and confused and upset. but she holds her tongue anyway, trying to figure this all out. once again, there's that part of her urging her to simply give in, accept this reality that they have. the other lumine isn't going away, not when she's fully established herself inside of her. and she knows–she knows she doesn't mean to hurt her; it's not lumine's nature to do so.

but that existential dread remains deeply rooted within her, its tendrils wrapped around her heart. she doesn't lose what she has, who she is. otherwise she shouldn't have lived at all. ]

... Will it help if we don't see each other?

[ lumine can feel herself being torn apart as she says those words, as if two halves of her fighting for and against the idea. but if it's as what he says, if it only happens during moments they're together— ]

Maybe if we keep away from each other, then things would go back to how they were. And that would be for the best, wouldn't it? ... For us.