Herian makes a quiet sound, like she's trying to come up with a response that isn't quite so Cosima-biased, and like that effort is kind of a struggle. "I— would not—" she starts, trying to navigate, "I do not think you're incapable of making mistakes, just that— I would feel inclined to trust your instincts on most occasions."

Nailed it.

But that second point, that makes her exhale softly, gaze drifting to the setting sun. The sky is turning to dusty purples and pinks, now, as the sun sinks lower.

"I worry," Herian admits, clenching her jaw as she pauses to collect her words again, like the motion could clear away some of the anxiety in it all. "The longer you are here, the more I hope that it means you won't ever go home. And I know that is selfish, and that it is no guarantee. I'm not sure that if you did disappear, I would not— would not tear apart the rifts trying to find a way to follow you." She lightly runs her fingers along Cosima's jaw, and leans in to kiss her cheek, voice still soft. "But I want to make sure that each moment we have together, I am entirely present, and entirely yours. Not worrying about what may be."