"Sorrow," Beverly murmurs softly, turning the cup around in her hands. That's part of it, sure, but there's so much more to her state of mind. It's complicated to go through, more so to even think about trying to explain. For a few minutes, she just sits there, barely managing a smile as it sinks in that he considers her a friend. Her. Not just her other self.

"I prefer to have friends who will do that for others and let me do the same in turn," she replies finally. "Sometimes it's almost impossible to even find the words to share the weight. Sometimes... it's just too horrific. Not being able to sleep because of it is hard enough."

It's like being trapped in her own mind and this is not a feeling she's ever really had before. Or at least she doesn't remember it well. She suspects this was what it was like after Jev the Ullian, but she remembers the aftereffects, not whatever it was that he made her see. So remembering exactly what her dreams hold and the memories is what truly terrifies her.

"Sometimes... it's not sorrow at all."