we can't make any promises now

Hearing it out loud, that Remi didn’t remember Loren at all, was disheartening, but it confirmed what the summoner had suspected ever since the lack of awareness in the other man’s eyes. However, the worst part of it all was hearing the alchemist admit that he’d loved the Launceleyn. For a moment, Loren’s vision swam from more than just the tears, and he swayed on his feet, worried he might pass out. Even weakened as he was, though, his body and training rebelled against such an act, and he felt every muscle in his body tighten, as if to block out the heartbreak. If only it were that easy. “I-I see.” This time, it came out as a choked sob. Loren was ashamed at that, but the fact that he was even standing and speaking was miracle enough. “Then I w-won’t bother you f-further.” Ever again, if Loren could help it: this was the cleanest break he could’ve asked for. Maybe starting over as strangers—which they were—would make the pain into something the Launceleyn could live with. Because he’d never be able to get over it. He took a few faltering and unseeing steps away, stumbling as best he could from his biggest mistake. It didn’t matter what Remi said past this point. Loren knew he would have to deal with the aftermath on his own. Luckily, he was good at that, because every time he found someone to care for him, he managed to fuck it up and push them away. So he'd put up his walls again, and he’d stay alone, all so that he could keep everyone safe from the disaster he’d made of his life. LOREN Not quite an open book