The sound of the rain, hitting the rocks and the saturated leaves, shrinks away until it's nothing more than a faint hiss. All I hear is the frantic, uneven pulse of my own heart.
I look at Vega, the water droplets clinging to his lashes, making his eyes look impossibly dark and dazzling. "You—" I start, but the word catches. I pause, just staring at the intensity of his gaze, the honesty that's cracking his usual facade.
I clear my throat and finish, my voice strained. "You don't have to apologize. I signed up for this."
Vega doesn't speak for a long moment. He turns his head slightly, staring out into the sheets of rain. The sliver of moonlight catches the determined set of his jaw.
"No," he finally says, his voice flat, resolute. "I should have never put you in this situation. This family is my burden to bear."
