"Thank you," he refolded the handkerchief slowly and then dried his cheek.

"The pain seemed as... gone as it would ever be, but can't seem to move regardless." Pestilence sighed, "Not like I haven't lost lovers before, but," he shrugged. It was different. Angelo knew that as well as anyone.

"Told Death I don't want to wallow like him, which is true. Equally I can't. I just can't close off like him or War or Famine... or you are so good at."

He ran the handkerchief under the edge of his eyepatch, salty blood staining the edge. "At least if could move forward, War would stop being so smug about me being single."

He gave another big sigh, bigger than he felt the library could even hold. "I just don't know what to do or where to go."