Something about the distance was blissful and wondrous and still just a little bit heartbreaking, like looking at the moon and the stars, or a particularly beautiful piece of fine art. Krem fidgeted with his wine glass a little, now that his hand was free. The back of his tongue burned with a sudden need to outpour with a hundred overly personal things, none of which needed saying in the slightest. So he kept them in, and sort of laughed at his sudden sheepishness.