Xylo held her throughout her story. Throughout her pains. Throughout her hurt. He watched as the locks that held him from knowing who she truly was unbolted and revealed her, still beautiful and pure. Xylo’s chest was stained with her tears, marks of a final war between doubt and love, marks that he cherished. But she was all that mattered. He had to respond. As he began to speak, his words coming out from his heart, not his brain, he let her rest on his chest once again, letting her bury her pain in him. He began in soft and loving words “Its ok my angel. It’s ok.” He strokes her hair softly, letting her be comforted with his presence, rather than an useless explanation of what she did. With a sigh, he assured “I have done the same. Being consumed by my rage. And I know your actions were not malign. And Kara knows that too. You didn’t mean any of your actions, and you’re braver than I ever have been. I’ve closed myself in, not telling anyone what I’ve done, but here you are.” He whispered softly, “I love you, River. And I’m sorry about what happened. But know I won’t judge you for it.”