hope keeps us breathing, just to kill us in the end
Apparently the issue was not going to drop. They had to go when Loren wanted, halt when Loren wanted, and talk when Loren wanted. And apparently only during those times. Turning slowly as if with great reluctance, Remi fixed his pale stare on the summoner as Loren laid out the charges as he saw them. "So you being cold is only reason for me to hurry up, but not you? Just an excuse to get me off of you? You might have just said, Loren." So much for the contact being something the summoner genuinely wanted.
But then as the Launceleyn forced another of his walls down, guilt and crushing levels of shame closed around the alchemist making his ears buzz with it and dragging his eyes to the ground. Someone else, someone for whom subservience and the notion that their life was meaningless hadn't been ground into the fibre of their being, might have told Loren that as good as it was he was trying to reinvent himself, that Remi simply hadn't the capacity to deal with it. That if the Launceleyn was only okay with small increments of contact, that he shouldn't have repeatedly mentioned being pounced on. That if he was jittery enough that hearing the voice of a man who the summoner well knew could partially shift, that he might have mentioned to Remi he shouldn't be on his shoulders. Shouldn't have asked him questions without wanting answers.
That, whatever Loren was going through, Remi was already far, far deeper into much more treacherous waters and that perhaps once, Loren could go without being the center of everything for more than a few moments. But that wasn't Remi, not even now. Biting the inside of his cheek as tears of regret and dispair pushed their way through, Remi took a few unsteady steps towards Loren extending his hand forward but not necessarily meaning for the Launceleyn to take it. It was more a gesture of...something, probably. Only Remi's mind was too full of competing emotions to properly make sense of anything.
"No, you are right Loren. I am sorry." Running a hand across his forehead and then scrubbing at one of his eyes with the heel of his hand, he pulled in a breath of frosty air and let it out slowly. "Of course I will be patient. Always, from now on." He vowed through an impossibly cherub-like smile.
As for being open and honest? "I think you do know most of what I am feeling." Remi said, running a hand through his curls. And the rest? "But not everything can be said, I suppose. And I think you know why."
But then as the Launceleyn forced another of his walls down, guilt and crushing levels of shame closed around the alchemist making his ears buzz with it and dragging his eyes to the ground. Someone else, someone for whom subservience and the notion that their life was meaningless hadn't been ground into the fibre of their being, might have told Loren that as good as it was he was trying to reinvent himself, that Remi simply hadn't the capacity to deal with it. That if the Launceleyn was only okay with small increments of contact, that he shouldn't have repeatedly mentioned being pounced on. That if he was jittery enough that hearing the voice of a man who the summoner well knew could partially shift, that he might have mentioned to Remi he shouldn't be on his shoulders. Shouldn't have asked him questions without wanting answers.
That, whatever Loren was going through, Remi was already far, far deeper into much more treacherous waters and that perhaps once, Loren could go without being the center of everything for more than a few moments. But that wasn't Remi, not even now. Biting the inside of his cheek as tears of regret and dispair pushed their way through, Remi took a few unsteady steps towards Loren extending his hand forward but not necessarily meaning for the Launceleyn to take it. It was more a gesture of...something, probably. Only Remi's mind was too full of competing emotions to properly make sense of anything.
"No, you are right Loren. I am sorry." Running a hand across his forehead and then scrubbing at one of his eyes with the heel of his hand, he pulled in a breath of frosty air and let it out slowly. "Of course I will be patient. Always, from now on." He vowed through an impossibly cherub-like smile.
As for being open and honest? "I think you do know most of what I am feeling." Remi said, running a hand through his curls. And the rest? "But not everything can be said, I suppose. And I think you know why."
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
