A very short introspective, just because I wondered why Deacon chose that song in s1e2 - and I think it's a beautiful song.

They're twenty years older but not twenty years wiser. He knows that for sure as he lets her voice wash over him, the tone still as pure as it was the first time they sang together. And he knows he shouldn't have picked this song, this song that means so much they haven't even suggested it in years.

I know why you're lonely.

He doesn't want to know if she ever thinks about him, worries about him, wonders if he's lonely. He doesn't want to think about the alternative to his life, the one he sabotaged. Too late is the thread running through his life and he's spent so long trying to learn to live with it that he thinks he really should have mastered it by now.

He barely trusts his own voice to obey him, fearful that the sudden drop of his heart will cause cracks.

Ain't you satisfied with me?

Twenty years ago, she had been and he knows it. He hadn't doubted her love but even whilst he was throwing it away he didn't stop to think about exactly what he would be left with.

Twenty years ago, she had looked at him and he had seen assurance that she believed what she was saying: no one would ever love him like she did. It's a different look in her eyes now, memory overlaid with sadness. It's a look that reminds him he's playing with fire and he has no idea why he's chosen now, when she has been someone else's for years, to light the match.

I'm all you've got. I'm all you'll ever need.

She had been all he had; but he hadn't been what she needed. In his darker moments, when self-loathing seems impossible to dismiss, he wonders if he had ever been what she needed. He knows he's the complication in her life, but he can't seem to keep away. The conflict between needing to know he's important to someone, to her, and never wanting to see that look on her face, the one pleading with him not to stare at her the way he is now, isn't a conflict he can resolve on his own. And there's no one he can turn to but her.

No one has ever loved him like she did.

When he reaches for her hand, it's not to make a claim. It's to remind himself she's real, she's not just a concept, she's someone he can hurt if he carries on like this.

Now what are we going to do?

When she gets out of the car, he wishes he hadn't asked the question. Because honestly, what could they ever do now beyond pretending tonight hadn't happened?

And he knows he's no wiser at all than he was two decades ago. If he was, he wouldn't be doing this to either of them.