the monsters turned out to be just trees

hope keeps us breathing, just to kill us in the end

Silently the tears came in full force. Perhaps the alchemist was naive to think that there existed some idealized notion of love after which every instantiation made its appeals. But he did. And so it was that as Loren said he had felt love before, it meant one of two things: either he hadn't felt it for Remi, or..well no. That could only be it. For if Loren had felt it for Remi, he would have still. Wouldn't have left him. Wouldn't have made his return as he did. Clenching his teeth together hard enough he thought they might crack in an effort to keep from crying out, Remi merely turned his face away, nose scrunched against the onslaught of tears and inability to breath. "Well then." The alchemist managed. Or at least he thought he did.

Pulling in more air than he lungs could take, the alchemist's lips performed one of those strange frown-smiles that seemed to overtake his feature in a wave. Sobbing inwardly, his throat pulsating with the effort to keep from gasping, he tried to swallow. Wiping the drops from his nose (snot or tears, who knew), he tried to pull in enough of a breath to speak. "Z.." He said, though his tears only came harder. Closing his eyes and letting the sob out, Remi snuffled in another breath to finish the word. The name. "Zekle." He managed at last. "His name...was Zekle."

How they'd gone from an awkward hug to this Remi didn't rightly know. But with eyes closed and the name of the man he had not murdered, but had instead let die, on his lips, the alchemist settled enough to be healed, leaning into Loren's outstretched fingers.