we can't make any promises now

At the mention of Edy’s passing, Loren grimaced. ”We all do.” Despite their differences—and despite how they parted—the librarian had known she had only wanted the best for the family. It just sucked that at the time he’d convinced himself that what he wanted was incompatible and more important with what his kin wanted. It seemed so dumb, now, but he couldn’t change the past. If he could...he shut down that line of thinking, knowing it would drive him insane. Perhaps it was relief or perhaps it was the fact that his mind was still grappling with, well, fire-spouting dildo, but the summoner grew careless with his tongue. ”Well you did say you were weak-willed and too caring, and she is quite stubborn.” His voice was light and mocking, but as soon as his mind caught up to his ears he flushed a brilliant crimson. ”I’m sorry...I shouldn’t have,” He swallowed. ”I shouldn’t have said that.” The other man’s accented voice and kind banter had been too familiar, and Loren had allowed himself to forget that he couldn’t, shouldn’t, wouldn’t tease like he used to. There was too much space between them now, and despite the alchemist’s easy (almost shockingly and worryingly so) acceptance, the librarian knew he had a long way to go to get back into the other man’s good graces. Loren forced himself to meet Remi’s now white eyes. They were quite a potent reminder of the changes they’d both been through, and how the Launceleyn would be forever apart from what he’d once craved and still maybe did. ”Remi.” The librarian’s voice was surprisingly soft and gentle; Loren didn’t know where he’d found this particular pool of understanding, but he’d draw upon it for as long as he could. ”Just because you, through a variety of literally miraculous circumstances were able to accept my presence does not mean that others will be willing or able to do so.” Ronin sprang to mind, but the summoner knew better than to bring that up now. But there were others, who were right to be suspicious of Loren. As for what was and wasn’t worthy of his time, well, he would be the judge of that. And the alchemist’s time and talents were far more worthy of the librarian’s. Then his eyes flicked away as Remi grinned. The Launceleyn still refused to see the cheer in any of this; the alchemist’s boundless optimism crashed against the summoner’s pessimism and broke apart, leaving Loren unchanged and unmoved. ”What part of our conversation today possibly convinced you that I was either charismatic or persuasive?” His voice came out flat and dispassionate, unintentionally underscoring his point. ”And if no one has suggested that to you before now, well…” He trailed off, because he’d been about to express that the other man had surrounded himself by idiots. However, Loren couldn’t say that: for one it would be rude, and for another, it would prove the alchemist’s point, and the librarian was loathe to admit that, even to himself. The librarian shook his head. ”You have a season to figure it out, which I know you will. I will just provide what assistance I can.” He knew he was waffling back and forth between insisting he could be of service and then insisting he could no nothing that mattered, but he was still so lost, buried beneath this confusing reunion, and his warring emotions, and his low self-esteem, and all this new information...it was too much for one person, so a little inconsistency would have to be forgiven. Surprising was definitely better than dumb. ”I’m not. But it wouldn’t be the first time I threw one for the greater good.” He was an expert at setting aside his discomfort, after all, and his awkwardness and annoyance at parties was easier than most of his emotions to push deep within himself. Then Remi mentioned Rexanna’s name, and Loren’s head shot up, eyes wide with surprise. ”Wait, really? She didn’t say anything...” Then again, they were strangers, and it was hardly the sort of thing that casually came up in conversation. The librarian slumped again as he realized she’d gone out of her way during such a busy time in her life to help someone who didn’t deserve it. He’d have to find some way to pay her back. LOREN Not quite an open book