The white sheep of the family
”Of course not, Remi. I..I didn’t mean it like that.” Loren hadn’t been intending for it to sound anything like Remi was interpreting it. All the summoner had meant was that his discomfort mattered less than the darkness that kept manifesting in the alchemist’s words and actions; it was too hard for the Launceleyn to see the other man like this, but everything Loren did just seemed to make it worse.
As Remi looked down, the summoner’s fingers closed a bit too tightly on Astra’s fur. She gave an annoyed grunt, then pulled away and trotted over to the alchemist. Yet another sign that the Launceleyn just screwed everything up given enough time. As the other man took a few steps forward and lifted his hand, Loren found himself moving ahead as well, his own fingers seeking out the alchemist’s. Although the summoner didn’t know if Remi was looking for comfort in that moment, Loren felt the need to provide it, and the other man always responded better to physical than verbal support. Or maybe Loren was just bad with words. It didn’t matter.
Softly, the Launceleyn shook his head. ”You don’t have to apologize. I’m the one with all the problems asking you for your help. In fact, I'm sorry I'm so terrible at accepting it.” Honestly he was probably asking for too much, now, from the already overburdened alchemist. ”I get it.” Or at least the summoner would say he did, even if he didn’t quite understand what Remi meant in that moment. Loren searched the other man’s eyes for some hint. Actually, maybe instead of assuming or trying to intuit (neither of which he was particularly good at) he should just ask. ”What do you need right now? And what do you want?”
As Remi looked down, the summoner’s fingers closed a bit too tightly on Astra’s fur. She gave an annoyed grunt, then pulled away and trotted over to the alchemist. Yet another sign that the Launceleyn just screwed everything up given enough time. As the other man took a few steps forward and lifted his hand, Loren found himself moving ahead as well, his own fingers seeking out the alchemist’s. Although the summoner didn’t know if Remi was looking for comfort in that moment, Loren felt the need to provide it, and the other man always responded better to physical than verbal support. Or maybe Loren was just bad with words. It didn’t matter.
Softly, the Launceleyn shook his head. ”You don’t have to apologize. I’m the one with all the problems asking you for your help. In fact, I'm sorry I'm so terrible at accepting it.” Honestly he was probably asking for too much, now, from the already overburdened alchemist. ”I get it.” Or at least the summoner would say he did, even if he didn’t quite understand what Remi meant in that moment. Loren searched the other man’s eyes for some hint. Actually, maybe instead of assuming or trying to intuit (neither of which he was particularly good at) he should just ask. ”What do you need right now? And what do you want?”
Will blood tell
