Storms We Cannot Weather

"So... about that rest after death?" she asked breathlessly, head on his chest.
Before her emotions could overwhelm her.
He chuckled and started talking, stroking her hair.
Focusing on information'll keep the thoughts away.
"My associate found a way to... restart the brainwaves..."
Thinly veiled disapproval - almost disgust - laced his description of the magic.
She pushed herself up on an elbow to hide a shudder as it resonated with her self-recrimination.
"...we might make it useful..."
His eyes shone with zeal now.
It took too much effort to mirror it in a smile.
Tears came easy later in the shower...