'You're real to me, Gene. You're not a product of my imagination. You're too bloody minded to be that.'
Her anger subsides with his, but there's still an edge to her voice.
'Your imagination, your will and your desire to help others like us, it was strong enough to create this body, and a whole world. Fenchurch was my home, Gene. It's real to me and to all the others who came through your doors.'
She catches his hand between hers, pressing her cheek against the back of his knuckles.
'You're real to me. We're here, together. And when I'm with you, I feel alive.'
That is a solemn truth. She's felt more alive the last three years than she'd ever felt when she was in the 'real' world. And that's largely due to his influence, as infuriating as it was sometimes.
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Her anger subsides with his, but there's still an edge to her voice.
'Your imagination, your will and your desire to help others like us, it was strong enough to create this body, and a whole world. Fenchurch was my home, Gene. It's real to me and to all the others who came through your doors.'
She catches his hand between hers, pressing her cheek against the back of his knuckles.
'You're real to me. We're here, together. And when I'm with you, I feel alive.'
That is a solemn truth. She's felt more alive the last three years than she'd ever felt when she was in the 'real' world. And that's largely due to his influence, as infuriating as it was sometimes.