She was never going to let him in completely, he knew. She had already shown him different stages of her, that was more than anyone could get, but still far from what he desired.

He wanted to be there for her in every aspect possible, but even though she had let him in in some, she didn't show any sign of wanting him the same way he wanted her.

He knew they were completely different, that his manners were very different from hers and that was one of the reasons she was reluctant at first and maybe the reason why she didn't see him any differently. She didn't think they could be compatible.

With time he had learn to differentiate her behaviour, he had learn to read her expressions, he knew that when she was angry her eyes turned darker and when she was melancholic they would look rather tired and her body would be more loose as well as her movements. 

He now knew her. 

He knew that when she was sick drank more water and stop drinking coffee, that whenever she felt pain she would be more quiet still; when she liked something she would lift up her chin and her eyes would close a little as if she was smiling; whenever she was feeling comfortable around someone she would pat their shoulders as a sign of her affection; whenever she was tired her voice would sound raspy and whenever she had had a problem she would lock herself in her world, probably dive into books, write a new song, or train harder.

He knew her.

But he still couldn't dive deeper.

Despite having seen her sick and a little weak, having met her mother, having spent countless moments together watching movies and consequently discovering her personal tastes little by little, even though she had told him she had never done well with men, despite having heard arguments with her mother and brother, having listened to her talk about herself and things she liked, despite playing around and rehearsing together, despite having penetrated beyond of what anybody could ever have, he didn't know her at all.

And still he found himself being dragged slowly into her, too captured by her essence to turn away. He still wanted to be her hero, to be her pillar and offer her his shoulder if she was feeling down, to be the one she wanted to share her happiness with...

He still wanted to be the adventurer who dared swim deeper. But if he continued to dive in, he would drown.

“What do you think is the worst way to die?” 

Her voice echoed his mind.

“Drowned.”