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Danielle was more stunned by his words just now than his announcement that death eaters had invaded the hospital. She stared up at Donovan, blinking quickly, feeling like she was in some sort of dream. He hadn't said anything that specified...anything, nothing besides the fact that some part of him did still care about her. Whether it be just as a friend or romantically or---he didn't hate her. Danielle felt her heart swell in her chest as the thought raced through her head, taking over everything.

Donovan didn't hate her. He didn't hate her, oh--that felt so good to know.

She nodded involuntarily; she was not was going to leave him now, or again. Danielle knew that his words could mean nothing but what they said. He could just not want her to die, that he did not want the guilt of knowing about an attack on his shoulders. Danielle knew that her heart should not be racing like it was, but the tone of his voice...the look in his eyes...She felt like a fool, but Danielle was allowing herself to be overwhelmed by the closeness of Donovan. It wasn't until his arm had wrapped around her that she'd truly realized how much she had missed this, and the need to be closer engulfed her every sense.

Her hand reached up to his face to touch his cheek, her breaths slow and her words deliberate,

"I thought you hated me," she whispered, her eyes jumping across his face to capture every bit of him. Her eyes welled with tears as her mouth twisted, trying to hold herself together. Maybe it was the stress of the situation, or maybe it was the enormity of the realization that the love of her life did not hate every fiber of her being. Her mind didn't know, so she just let her heart take control. Danielle lifted her other hand to take Donovan's face, just staring at him as the most truth that had ever come out of her mouth began to spill, and she choked out, "I wanted to die, thinking you hated me."