He hates the idea of hiding anything from her. She is his world, his existence, the cornerstone around which he has built everything that makes him happy. He exhales, pressing his forehead against hers. The fear is losing her, again, experiencing that horrible, empty void that made him foolish enough to take the offer in the first place.

"You're not going to like this," he murmurs softly, before sitting back a little. "It is about how I died."

The word still feels hollow and awful. A dark truth that he can never get away from. Died.