She claws at her chest. Searching for the right words to say. Unable to enunciate. She can't quite form the words. She feels everything. Cries drip from her mouth like melted gold. The purest love you've ever heard, but muddled sounds.
She sees the pain or confusion in his eyes, she reaches out to grasp his hand, to let him know she's not like the previous. To ensure him that his mind, his thoughts, his feelings are treasured like those of a pharaoh. That she will listen with love, understanding, and empathy to everything he says. But he keeps his lips tight like he is facing persecution. She tries to ensure him that her intentions are pure, but he's never seen love like hers, or so it seems.
She's a fallen angel: she has been beaten, torn down, and destroyed so many times that all she has to offer anymore is love. She can't bare the idea of any more cruelty in the world. And that is her fear. That this calm wave of love she has to offer will be the demise of her and her love. Because people become so conditioned to the disrespect, chaos, and toxicity that they have been subjected to that he doesn't know how to accept the truest love she has to give.
Pure utter adoration for him is all she possesses. So the fallen angel sits calmly on her hands praying soon he will trust in her before she breaks into so many pieces her wings can't fly. You can only love a stone for so long before you turn to stone yourself. But she won't give up, she will sit and wait until he awakes her for love, or damnation from his world.
