[He's quiet a moment. It's not just that she seems upset, or that he doesn't know what to do, but it's her correction. What does he see when he's perfectly happy? What does he do when he has what he wants, all besides the people in a letter that he's not sure still exist?]

What we want...

[He sighs softly then goes to lay down at her side. His fingers finger her sleeve, curling in the fabric in lieu of touching her.]

I can't... have people... not the same... maybe from... a distance... if they thought... I was worth enough... to them... once they found out... If people are... going to forgive me... for being dead... they have to... really like me... and I don't know... if everyone will...

People... you... are what I want... I keep that... by giving... whatever I can... don't think... that I have less... because of that... I'm happy, Ryder.