He fucked up again. He can see it in the way her shoulders slump and she rubs the place where his teeth had once pierced her skin, driven by madness. That was the only wound he might not be truly responsible for, the only one he gave her while not himself, barring the time he had lost while feral within the nightmare of the blight. All the rest, though? Every time he had broken her down? Criticized? Failed to support her? Those were his fault, every one.
And now he did it again, and he didn't know how, and her apology struck as deep as her lack of care had earlier.
"I needed to hear it," he said, though he held the pain back from his voice, keeping his tone quiet and even. He knew a deflection when he heard it, however, and he stifled the sigh as he looked down at her crossed arms, feeling the shutters of her soul close tight against him. She wanted to change the subject, though, and so he followed her lead with a shake of his head.
"He wouldn't come back, no. Not after what happened at the Perch. We barricaded up the farm and he's staying there, like he used to before... before last year. I'd be with him if Kiada hadn't asked me to go with her." A tragic quest for a lost soul, on Ludo's request? He couldn't turn her down, no matter how much it tore his heart to leave Rory alone. But the hunter knew LongNight far better than the bard, and Jigano trusted his mate's common sense to hold firm without the wilding influence of himself around to drag his love into danger's path. "Honestly, with how many times we'll be opening the door he's probably safer at home then in town," the bard admitted with a pained honesty. Selfishly, foolishly, he wanted Rory by his side on LongNight. But Jigano's side was rarely a safe place to be.
His former friends could attest to that.
And now he did it again, and he didn't know how, and her apology struck as deep as her lack of care had earlier.
"I needed to hear it," he said, though he held the pain back from his voice, keeping his tone quiet and even. He knew a deflection when he heard it, however, and he stifled the sigh as he looked down at her crossed arms, feeling the shutters of her soul close tight against him. She wanted to change the subject, though, and so he followed her lead with a shake of his head.
"He wouldn't come back, no. Not after what happened at the Perch. We barricaded up the farm and he's staying there, like he used to before... before last year. I'd be with him if Kiada hadn't asked me to go with her." A tragic quest for a lost soul, on Ludo's request? He couldn't turn her down, no matter how much it tore his heart to leave Rory alone. But the hunter knew LongNight far better than the bard, and Jigano trusted his mate's common sense to hold firm without the wilding influence of himself around to drag his love into danger's path. "Honestly, with how many times we'll be opening the door he's probably safer at home then in town," the bard admitted with a pained honesty. Selfishly, foolishly, he wanted Rory by his side on LongNight. But Jigano's side was rarely a safe place to be.
His former friends could attest to that.
