Because you think you know everything and you don't.

[It's strange the way the Synchrony between them has started to feel — not like a battle, not exactly, but like a clash of something elemental and fierce. The drowning depths of his self-loathing pitted against the wildfire burn of her contrariness. She's not clinging to his hand the way she'd clung to his shirt as they'd fallen; no, the way she's got him now is like a fetter.]

You're not sorry, and you're not glad for me. You don't care about me, except in the manner that suits you. You don't care that I fell; you care whether I did it around you. You don't care if I'm safe and hale. You care about what you did to keep me so or not.

[She shakes her head, eyes narrowed, and doesn't let go of his hand.]

So this is for you. Because I want to. Because I choose to.

[More and more she shoves at him, and isn't it just like Summer Icarian, to find a way to turn care and empathy into a threat.]

Thank you for catching me. I like the way it feels to fall, too.