[Is that a poem? He might think to ask later. It's dark, but beautiful. For now, well... Daan picks up the little box and slides it into his pocket, its weight terrible. He'll never have the heart to dispose of it, though.]

I'm glad, Roland. I mean that.

[And he doesn't say it, but honestly Roland being present has helped Daan as well, keeping him grounded. At least enough for the moment.]

Fuck. Let me make you a drink after we get out of here. I think it's time for that, yeah?