Love mends even the broken parts
Well, Loren had asked for Remi’s opinion, and the Launceleyn was trying to be less abrasive and hypocritical. So getting mad now would be entirely counterproductive. Of course, the alchemist didn’t know that Beatrix and Jace had literally run away from home because they’d been so mistrustful of the summoner, and that had not changed much since he’d convinced them to return. Indeed, he’d maybe seen his half-sister once since then—and she’d hardly been happy to see him—and his nephew not at all. So Loren knew they’d be fine if he died. Sad, for a bit, but resilient enough to get through it. However, expressing that to Remi seemed inadvisable.
For a long moment, the Launceleyn was silent in the face of the alchemist’s latest set of critiques. He didn’t really know how to respond. Staying quiet was not an option though, so he just leaned his head back until he was staring at the ceiling instead of at the other man. ”I’m sorry. I don’t know either. I...wasn’t trying to be flippant and heartless. Of course I care. I care more about others than myself, probably to a dangerous degree. I just...I have trouble imagining that I make much of an impact or impression on people. At least usually.” Because for most of his life, he hadn’t.
The summoner spoke in a careful whisper, afraid of setting off Remi again. ”I don’t...I’ve never been good at talking about how I feel. Or even acknowledging it properly. So...I don’t know.” Loren shrugged helplessly. But it had started with the stutter, and then progressed to the masks he constantly put on and discarded. He'd never denied being a shitty communicator. ”I try to let my actions speak instead.” Except he’d been fucking those up to, at least lately. Or maybe always. He wasn’t like the other man, easy with affection and wearing his heart on his sleeve. Indeed, the Launceleyn didn’t feel that he was equipped to ever express himself properly. That didn’t mean he was looking for sympathy or making excuses, just trying one last time to explain before it was too late.
As the alchemist collapsed against him, the summoner just held Remi as tightly as Loren dared. The tears were unsurprising. Neither was the joke: at this point he was almost expecting humor as a weird response from the other man to all sorts of uncomfortable situations. ”I know.” The Launceleyn’s voice came out easily, and skeleton or no, he stood there. And he would stand there for as long as the other man needed and allowed.
For a long moment, the Launceleyn was silent in the face of the alchemist’s latest set of critiques. He didn’t really know how to respond. Staying quiet was not an option though, so he just leaned his head back until he was staring at the ceiling instead of at the other man. ”I’m sorry. I don’t know either. I...wasn’t trying to be flippant and heartless. Of course I care. I care more about others than myself, probably to a dangerous degree. I just...I have trouble imagining that I make much of an impact or impression on people. At least usually.” Because for most of his life, he hadn’t.
The summoner spoke in a careful whisper, afraid of setting off Remi again. ”I don’t...I’ve never been good at talking about how I feel. Or even acknowledging it properly. So...I don’t know.” Loren shrugged helplessly. But it had started with the stutter, and then progressed to the masks he constantly put on and discarded. He'd never denied being a shitty communicator. ”I try to let my actions speak instead.” Except he’d been fucking those up to, at least lately. Or maybe always. He wasn’t like the other man, easy with affection and wearing his heart on his sleeve. Indeed, the Launceleyn didn’t feel that he was equipped to ever express himself properly. That didn’t mean he was looking for sympathy or making excuses, just trying one last time to explain before it was too late.
As the alchemist collapsed against him, the summoner just held Remi as tightly as Loren dared. The tears were unsurprising. Neither was the joke: at this point he was almost expecting humor as a weird response from the other man to all sorts of uncomfortable situations. ”I know.” The Launceleyn’s voice came out easily, and skeleton or no, he stood there. And he would stand there for as long as the other man needed and allowed.
loren
