The couple slowly disintegrated from view, yet Death and I remained in the Ferris wheel, alone together as we watched the In-Between created setting sun in this memory.
My eyes shifted to Death, realizing that this memory might've upset him. But he kept a straight face, asking me as if I was the one who needed checking up on, "How are you feeling?"
And then, as I struggled to piece my thoughts together, I realized that I really do need it.
Death was silent, waiting patiently for me to gather my bearings.
It made me think: How odd. I was so used to getting shouted at for thinking carefully before speaking that the idea of someone waiting for me to be ready was such a refreshing feeling.
If this were Dante (the one later in my memories, not the current one I'm witnessing again), I would've been called a slow dumbass.
