we can't make any promises now

Loren sighed, knowing Remi still didn’t get it. The other man still felt that there was something good or right to be done here, when it was just a tragedy all around. Despite every effort by the Launcleeyn, he couldn’t seem to disabuse the alchemist of his optimism. “I did. I asked you for a key. But you don’t have one, and you don’t know where they are. So I was going to go and see if I could find them.” However, then the librarian just couldn’t keep his mouth shut. If only he’d kept his distance, none of this would have come to pass. It needed to happen eventually, of course, but it had gone all topsy-turvy and he didn’t know which way to feel anymore. So he chose to feel nothing. "Before. Not now." Perhaps, one day, when being in the presence of Remi didn't bring up so many painful memories and feelings they could be friends. But as it stood, it was agony to be so close to the alchemist, and yet know the summoner could never be as close to the other man as Loren once had been. Then the Launceleyn was on the ground, curled up in a protective ball. As the other man spoke softly, almost intimately, Loren closed his eyes and rested his chin on his knees. “I already told you, it doesn’t matter what I want.” He started crying again, though softly and silently this time, terror still lingering in his limbs from the touch of the other man. The uninvited physical contact had managed to squeeze the last bit of sorrow out of the librarian, in a way the other man’s words couldn’t. LOREN Not quite an open book