LOREN
I have the whole time.
Oh.
Suddenly the world tilted on its axis.
View through that lens, many of Remi’s actions since Loren’s return—the alchemist’s persistence, the way the other man had kept coaxing the Launceleyn to be honest and true and to dream and to want—took on a whole different meaning. It wasn’t just Remi’s optimism and faith in the inherent goodness in others that kept him coming back to the summoner, but something more. Something purer. Something stronger.
And Loren had already said he felt it too.
But even though they were both being fully honest and open (perhaps for the first time in the Launceleyn’s life and definitely for the first time since his return) it didn’t change much. They might love each other. Unfortunately, love only conquered all in fairy tales and romances, and their story was neither. No, this was a tragedy already, and it was headed towards the climax and conclusion of the tale.
”Oh.” It was too small a response to what Remi had just admitted, or maybe to what Loren had just understood, but he was still processing all the implications of what had just been said. As it hit him, though, he flushed a furious crimson. Gently, he tried to pull the other man’s hand from his cheek, though the summoner didn’t release it; instead, he’d actually try to interlace their fingers, keeping that link between them. While he didn’t want the alchemist to think the summoner was pulling away, the gesture, the hand on his cheek, had been too intimate in the wake of what had just been said.
Staring at Remi with heartbroken and hopeful eyes, Loren tried to come up with words that would express exactly what he was thinking and feeling at that moment. But all he kept coming back to reality. Still, he could let this moment linger for just a bit longer before he inevitably ruined it. ”I-I didn’t realize.” As if that hadn’t been obvious. "I'm sorry." For not noticing, for not preventing this, for what he would have to do next, the summoner couldn't say. But he was.
Oh.
Suddenly the world tilted on its axis.
View through that lens, many of Remi’s actions since Loren’s return—the alchemist’s persistence, the way the other man had kept coaxing the Launceleyn to be honest and true and to dream and to want—took on a whole different meaning. It wasn’t just Remi’s optimism and faith in the inherent goodness in others that kept him coming back to the summoner, but something more. Something purer. Something stronger.
And Loren had already said he felt it too.
But even though they were both being fully honest and open (perhaps for the first time in the Launceleyn’s life and definitely for the first time since his return) it didn’t change much. They might love each other. Unfortunately, love only conquered all in fairy tales and romances, and their story was neither. No, this was a tragedy already, and it was headed towards the climax and conclusion of the tale.
”Oh.” It was too small a response to what Remi had just admitted, or maybe to what Loren had just understood, but he was still processing all the implications of what had just been said. As it hit him, though, he flushed a furious crimson. Gently, he tried to pull the other man’s hand from his cheek, though the summoner didn’t release it; instead, he’d actually try to interlace their fingers, keeping that link between them. While he didn’t want the alchemist to think the summoner was pulling away, the gesture, the hand on his cheek, had been too intimate in the wake of what had just been said.
Staring at Remi with heartbroken and hopeful eyes, Loren tried to come up with words that would express exactly what he was thinking and feeling at that moment. But all he kept coming back to reality. Still, he could let this moment linger for just a bit longer before he inevitably ruined it. ”I-I didn’t realize.” As if that hadn’t been obvious. "I'm sorry." For not noticing, for not preventing this, for what he would have to do next, the summoner couldn't say. But he was.
But don’t be weary if it’s broken
Families are like that—
they’re split up and always torn.
