[Lorna has never been one to doubt the words of others, regardless of how well she knows them. She trusts, perhaps too readily, that every word she hears is God's honest truth until it is otherwise proven.]

[And yet, when Anna tells her all those things, says everything she hadn't allowed herself to hope for, Lorna cannot help but doubt. It's all too good, too perfect to be true. It's like something out of a storybook, only the genre has taken a sudden shift from a Grimm Tale to a Fairy one.]

[Lorna presses her mouth into a thin line to hide the trembling of her lower lip, but it's no use - the moment Anna's thumb brushes over cheek, her composure crumbles. Her breath hitches, her throat tightens, and her eyes threaten to spill over with tears.]

Oh, Anna...

[She feels so foolish. Foolish for doubting her, for worrying herself sick, for making such a spectacle of herself. It's embarrassing, being so overwhelmed with emotion that she cannot keep herself in check - she doesn't know whether to smile with joy or cry with relief and so she does both, sniffing softly as ducks her head to her shoulder so that she can wipe her cheek dry without freeing her hands from Anna's.]

Whatever did I do to deserve you?

[Her smile is a fragile, shaky thing, but its there all the same.]