Luke was, certainly, blaming himself. It was a habit hard to get out of, after what he'd done to Ben--and the pit into which he'd fallen in his guilt over that. He didn't deserve her, even as a companion. He didn't deserve a recourse from the loneliness and madness that shrouded him. He shouldn't be allowed to enjoy the feel of her against him.

He couldn't let this go any further.

But surely... he could let her stand here for a few moments more, and savor the warmth, since it was going to be as much as he allowed himself.

"I can't let you," he said sorrowfully, breath stirring the fine hair that escaped from her elaborate knots. "I will not watch you throw your life away."

He still had not moved to hold her. He did not trust himself.