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“Why are you doing this?”
“Because it can never happen, Sam. What you want… we aren’t even the same species.”
“But-”
“Walk away, Sam. It’s the only way you can end this.” Gabriel reached to snap again and Sam flinched.
“Please, no more.” The words were small, broken, and Gabriel wasn’t sure how he felt about how it was the thousand lifetimes Sam spent watching them, together, that had done that. Because the endings, they weren’t that far from the truth. “I’ll go.”
Gabriel turned away, unable to watch the large man navigate the crowd. Away from him.
Of course the pasta was burnt. He considered what sort of justice he could dole out on the distracted chef, but instead resigned himself to another empty evening of not-real bodies and too much sugar.