As Glacius places the paper upon his chest and butts up against his chin, Carlisle cannot help the soft smile that crosses him. He places a hand on the glyph and activates it, sending the room into darkness as he sets the steaming paper aside. A moment later, the ceiling alights with dots both vibrant and dim, colors erupting across them as the magic paints a distant galaxy before them. The chill of the air around the alien's armor helps complete the illusion, making them truly seem as though they are surrounded by the vast depths of the stars above.

Emily was so thoughtful to make such a gift for them at his request... and yet, that dreadful thought returns, and all the guilt that comes with it: it could have been worse.

Carlisle tenses beneath Glacius, his breath unsteady as he puts a hand long his partner's neck, seeking the comfort he usually finds there. What comfort would he have found with Emily if Glacius had vanished?

He brings his other arm around Glacius, embracing his partner as he shudders again, suddenly awash with emotion. He chokes on something in the back of his throat, his grip tightening. "I'm sorry," he utters, knowing Glacius will ask what it is that's wrong. He should be honest, Carlisle reminds himself, no matter how terrible a truth it is. "What- what kind of person am I, to think something so awful when I should be mourning the loss of a friend? To find relief in that it wasn't you who was taken away instead?"

It's not that he hadn't been gloomy throughout the day at the thought of the things that went unsaid to Emily, but he cannot deny that most of the fear and unease he felt had been tied to the mere thought that his partner might not be in the city anymore. It vanished the moment Glacius returned home, as if all his problems were over... but Emily is still gone, and now, he wonders if he truly is an unfeeling monster in some ways, incapable of the empathy Glacius so desperately seeks.