The white sheep of the family
Remi spoke about love like he knew exactly what it was. But it meant different things to different people, and it seemed that for the two of them their conceptions were separated by an uncrossable chasm, even with Loren’s magic and the alchemist’s wings to bridge it. The summoner had already conceded that the other man had overcome his issues around being with another man. Around being with Loren. But it had been too late for them even then. Instead of rehashing that and just wounding Remi further, the Launceleyn decided to let the subject go. ”What is it, then?” Maybe if the alchemist explained what love was, beyond wanting to be with the other person no matter what the cost was, the summoner could understand how it all went so wrong.
When the other man pulled away, however, the lightness that had begun to blossom in Loren winked out in an instant, because he feared that he’d once again made a mistake, one of his countless many. When Remi pulled at his clothes, exposing a nasty set of scars, however, Loren hissed in sympathy and his fingers twitched, magic still swirling close to the surface. Maybe this wasn't about him after all. He was finally willing to entertain the possibility that not everything was.
The alchemist’s words gave the summoner pause. Still, the Launceleyn wasn’t going to let Remi continue to feel the guilt over his supposed crime. Not knowing the details—and having made too many missteps already by assuming Loren could fill them in—the summoner wasn’t going to reassure the other man that all was well. But that didn’t mean the Launceleyn couldn’t offer some comfort. He had to, to help repay the impossible debt he now owed Remi, now and forever and before. ”You won’t. Any more than I won’t forget what happened to me just because I wiped away the marks of it.” Loren’s hand came up, still brimming with magic, and hovered over the scars. ”But if I’m going to be living in the present, in the future, if you're asking me to do that, take that chance, I want you to come with me.” He couldn’t force the other man to come. But the Launceleyn could ask. And maybe the love remaining between them, even if Loren had done his best to reject it because he thought he was unworthy and Remi had forgotten it because of the cruelty of the gods, maybe it would be enough.
When the other man pulled away, however, the lightness that had begun to blossom in Loren winked out in an instant, because he feared that he’d once again made a mistake, one of his countless many. When Remi pulled at his clothes, exposing a nasty set of scars, however, Loren hissed in sympathy and his fingers twitched, magic still swirling close to the surface. Maybe this wasn't about him after all. He was finally willing to entertain the possibility that not everything was.
The alchemist’s words gave the summoner pause. Still, the Launceleyn wasn’t going to let Remi continue to feel the guilt over his supposed crime. Not knowing the details—and having made too many missteps already by assuming Loren could fill them in—the summoner wasn’t going to reassure the other man that all was well. But that didn’t mean the Launceleyn couldn’t offer some comfort. He had to, to help repay the impossible debt he now owed Remi, now and forever and before. ”You won’t. Any more than I won’t forget what happened to me just because I wiped away the marks of it.” Loren’s hand came up, still brimming with magic, and hovered over the scars. ”But if I’m going to be living in the present, in the future, if you're asking me to do that, take that chance, I want you to come with me.” He couldn’t force the other man to come. But the Launceleyn could ask. And maybe the love remaining between them, even if Loren had done his best to reject it because he thought he was unworthy and Remi had forgotten it because of the cruelty of the gods, maybe it would be enough.
Will blood tell
