The last she'd seen of Will was over that horizon.

She hadn't wanted to leave him. She could still remember the feeling of how her heart had nearly jumped out of her chest as she floated away in the lifeboat that he had insisted she climb into. Could still feel how loudly her heart had pounded in her chest; screaming — beseeching him to let her stay with him rather than let her go.

But he had convinced her, somehow in the way that he always seemed to. The way he held her hand so tenderly to lead her to the lifeboats had struck her as the same sort of tenderness with which he would lead her onto the dance floor. Reminded her of when they had first reunited, and how stupid they had been to think they had no chance in the world. Now, she realized, they had had every chance in the world. There were so many encounters that they had been through where she had stepped away from him.

But when he'd saved her on the train, and he had pulled her into such a tight embrace, Diana was sure he didn't know his own strength. It was the moment where she knew she didn't want him to let go.

Yet eventually had to, then and now, and Diana willed herself to remember the feeling of her hand on his, his hand encompassing hers, pulling her towards him, pressing her against his chest.

As they sailed away, she had refused to tear her eyes away from the horizon; from his figure, so resolute and reassuring slowly disappearing into the horizon. She had watched the horizon until she couldn't anymore and exhaustion drew her into darkness.

Now, as she lay gazing up at the sky counting every object she could see, memories of him hit her. And with every memory, she closed her eyes, willing to jump back in time to revisit, to tell herself instead of resisting him, she should have hurled herself into his arms and told him to never let go.

Foolish girl.