no emotion that's worth having

SAMUEL i am the ocean, crawling madly at your moon. and with one wanton whoop — Though Zeph did not react particularly explosively or perhaps in a way fitting to his confession, Sam could at least tell by the change in the atmosphere that this time, he had been believed. He pressed his lips together, clung to his own arms and stared at the floor, sure that now the rejection and disgust was coming. It had been delayed, but he was sure he'd hear the door slam soon, Zeph leaving-- He looked up at the pacing and authoritative tone, surprised and yet not at the same time, his paranoia and his sensible mind both there somewhere. "I...even if you could sort things out in Torchline, I can't just leave the Grounds. It's complicated, with the Ascended and the Voice. I have to stay and fight." Sam's voice wavered a little: he really, really didn't want to, still thought it was a bad idea as he had when they'd first discussed it, but he couldn't afford to annoy his Goddess any further. "Besides...I don't know where Amalia is, or Ronin for that matter, and both of them don't like me very much. Maybe even want me to be dead." He squeezed his arms, looked up with a smile that was meant to be reassuring. "You don't have to fix my messes, Zeph. I appreciate it, but...I got myself into this." — i melt into a sycophantic soup, & all that's left to do, is giggle, fawn, and swoon.