LOREN
Remi might’ve fallen in love with Loren. But the gods had taken the feeling and the memory of it from the other man, and given that the alchemist was married—and given how the summoner had been acting—there was little chance of that happening again. However, that was not what the Launceleyn had been afraid of. ”I was protecting you from the pain of being around me, in both the short and the long term. Or trying, at least.” He'd failed, obviously. Maybe he’d been misguided in his thinking and his actions, but he genuinely had been trying to do the right thing.
At the next accusation that came out of the other man’s mouth, however, Loren paused, actually considering it. It was true, his anxiety about being touched seemed to have disappeared and he frowned, trying to remember when it had happened. Then he realized that it had been his encounter with Frey, when the deity had demonstrated that not all contact had to be bad, that had cured him of that particular issue and he flushed. Obviously he wasn’t going to mention that to Remi. Granted, the problem had never been with touching others, just with being touched (and even that had mostly been in Loren's head), but bringing that up also seemed unwise.
Instead, the summoner just gave the alchemist a guilty and apologetic look. ”You’re right. I’m sorry. I should have asked, and I will ask from now on.” The Launceleyn took another deep breath. ”May I please heal you?” Then he hesitated, blue eyes searching Remi’s face for any sign of what the other man needed right now. ”You can touch me, if you want. In whatever form you’d like. I won’t freak out, or shy away, or start panicking.” Loren wouldn’t, not that the alchemist was likely to believe that any more than he’d believed anything the summoner had done or said since his return.
At the next accusation that came out of the other man’s mouth, however, Loren paused, actually considering it. It was true, his anxiety about being touched seemed to have disappeared and he frowned, trying to remember when it had happened. Then he realized that it had been his encounter with Frey, when the deity had demonstrated that not all contact had to be bad, that had cured him of that particular issue and he flushed. Obviously he wasn’t going to mention that to Remi. Granted, the problem had never been with touching others, just with being touched (and even that had mostly been in Loren's head), but bringing that up also seemed unwise.
Instead, the summoner just gave the alchemist a guilty and apologetic look. ”You’re right. I’m sorry. I should have asked, and I will ask from now on.” The Launceleyn took another deep breath. ”May I please heal you?” Then he hesitated, blue eyes searching Remi’s face for any sign of what the other man needed right now. ”You can touch me, if you want. In whatever form you’d like. I won’t freak out, or shy away, or start panicking.” Loren wouldn’t, not that the alchemist was likely to believe that any more than he’d believed anything the summoner had done or said since his return.
But don’t be weary if it’s broken
Families are like that—
they’re split up and always torn.
