Misa meets his eyes and nods desperately. She feels even worse for hiding it from him now; of course Lazarus would understand, more than anyone.

"I don't want to know anymore. Not if it means— feelings that aren't mine. I don't want them."

She reaches for his hands, expression earnest. That handsome ghost's face, the things it made her feel— they aren't hers. They are nothing more than someone else's emotions invading her mind, and Misa refuses to let them replace what is hers.

"I don't want any of it. I want you."