She just watched him in stunned silence, eyes wide and vulnerable, colored stormy purple grey in the late morning light filtering in. Like Sora, something in his words resonated within her, destroying all sarcasm and snark and replacing the cynicism with something lighter. Something like hope. She could tell by his reaction to his own words that he felt corny. And maybe the words were sappy, but maybe they weren't. They meant something to her.

When he turned away, Megara silently slid off the chair and moved around the counter to stand behind him. Before he could react, she placed her forehead on his back, eyes closed. "...why did you have to say something so heroic?" she asked quietly, placing her hands against his skin. "Why do you keep making it so hard?" Questions she knew he didn't have an answer for, but she was tired of keeping it all inside.