angel with a shotgun

LOREN

Loren weirdly found that he was looking forward to it as well. At the very least, she was familiar to him now, and although they were not friends, he’d laid himself bare to her in a way that he’d done with very few people. Remi might think he knew the summoner, Ronin might have known the Launceleyn once upon a time. However, they’d changed, and so had Loren; he was not close to his former self, and everything he’d gone through during and after his return had just confirmed that he was a new man. That wasn’t even accounting for his recent bout of cruelty.

So when he spoke, his voice still came out with marginally less hostility. ”Me too.” Whether or not that was because he wanted to go a few more rounds or because he might actually take her up on her offer of friendship, even he couldn’t say. As she thanked him, however, his eyes searched her face, still half-thawed. ”It’s my job.” And everything and everyone kept reminding him what a piss poor job he’d been doing, at that, including himself. He hadn’t been there last year, his magic might not work, he was a martyr with a superiority complex, but no, he couldn’t think of any sincere thanks off the top of his head from someone who understood. Not that he needed it. Still, even he would admit that it felt good.

But don’t be weary if it’s broken

Families are like that—

they’re split up and always torn.