[He's not sure what led them to this or when he started caring. Had it been after he'd spoken to Midna inside of his jail cell? Or maybe after they moved in together? But he knew what cemented it, he couldn't forget that. It had been all that time in her world. Fighting together, fighting for her. At some point, meaning had begun to creep back into Dylas' undead heart. He'd seen what she was really like, understood there were reasons she couldn't say what she couldn't.

At some point, he started waking up and hoping Midna was still in the house. He started looking forward to bringing home food or cooking, if not for her, but to leave leftovers behind that she could finish at her leisure. And now, seeing her like this, in what he knows is her true form...it's a person he can not only stand by, but really be with.

Even if she reverts back, he'll wait for this form again.

He exhales a huge sigh of relief.]

I thought you were going to say no. You have terrible taste in boyfriends.

[The humor is a bit depressing, but given their own tendency to think in the shadows, it's probably not too surprising.

Or at least, not as surprising as when he kisses her hand while it's still close enough to him, holding onto his wrist like that. And then he rests his forehead against it, closing his eyes, smiling to himself.]

I think you can send Ales away now. I don't want him to throw up and blame it on me.