-- wants and wishes; dorian.

[Dorian Wilde]

Dorian just smirked in reply to her first comment. No, she shouldn't have left, but he didn't want to further make her feel worse than she already did. Alright, maybe he wanted her to feel the guilt, just a little more, but Dorian Wild wasn't cruel. Not with Elliot. So he held his silence and switched the smirk into a charming smile.

Her tiny request was easy to fulfill. Don't leave? He could do that no problem.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he promised, a coy playfulness in his tone. He almost sounded like he was teasing her, but in a good way. He was able to regard her with just a bit of amusement, if only for the irony of the situation. She didn't want him to go, and Dorian was doing everything in his power to not let her go. Those were supposed to be his words. His request.

Don't leave yet.

But for a reason he couldn't quite put his finger on, he felt guilty thinking of the words. He was still so desperately trying to convince himself that Elliot was once more his again. But she'd never been his to begin with. She wasn't something he could hold onto and possess, restrict and withhold. Although sometimes he wished he could (or at least attach a GPS on her person), he knew he had no right to. Elliot was no trophy, no status symbol or icon. Nor was she like him.

She was a goddess. And he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

[Elliot is on the edge.]

Elliot, who was so wicked simply because she was so beautiful, gave Dorian's hand a small squeeze, feeling a wave of comfort wash over her at the way her fingers still fit with his; some things would never change, no matter how long she had been gone, how far she had ran - how terribly she had screwed up.

Her hips swayed as she walked, the purple fabric of her dress skimming along her thighs as they headed for the castle. She smiled to herself, her lips curving into a secretive sort of grin that brought light into her eyes and made her look more feline than anything. Her baby blue landed on Dorian and she found herself wondering what was on his mind, what he could have possibly been thinking as their shoes clicked against the stone steps that lead to the Academy's doors. She imagined that he was glad for her in that moment, that he was happy she had come back, and - at least for now - back to him, whatever that meant. Though, there was a part of her that still ached with guilt, a part that took her mind captive as she found herself thinking of how mad he must have been with her as well; and how he still had every right to be. She had made a reckless decision solely for herself, and when everything had fallen apart, he remained.

A sigh escaped her and she shook her head, blonde curls splaying out around her face as she did so; this was not a time to dwell. She would have enough time for that later. Turning to the boy at her side, she gave his hand a small squeeze.

"Thank you," for everything.