He's standing out on the balcony staring at nothing in particular when Dr Keller arrives. He can hear her every step, quiet but certain, and his senses are filled with the scent of her shampoo at once. Cucumber melon.
It reminds him of earlier times, times with Elizabeth.
They'd been in such a situation on many occasions. Until what had happened...
He doesn't move, doesn't acknowledge Keller. To do so will break his mood and he's been able to stay in a rather comfortable state of melancholy (denial) for awhile now that he doesn't want to lose. He's been able to tune out all the horrors, the pain, the loss...
He assumes Keller understands, because she follows his lead and is silent, unmoving, just there. He's grateful. He can't stand the idea of doing anything but what he's doing now. He can't stand the idea of returning to reality or doing anything that will remind him too much of her. Elizabeth.
He can't deal with that right now. He needs to clear his mind and give his heart some time to begin the healing process. (It's such a long process he's certain it will take forever.)
He zones out again, fully, and his thoughts blank. He immerses himself in the warmth, the emptiness.
He vaguely hears Keller's footsteps moving away a good time later and feels the loss of her presence immediately. It sends a fear through him, a look into days to come. He'd be alone. He is alone.
He stares back out at the moon hanging above the water.