i'll follow you into the dark

i'll stay here with you until this dream is gone

"You couldn't have even if you'd tried." Remi says with a miserable sigh, his hands tightly clutching as much of Ronin as is possible as if he might somehow still be pulled away. But his grip is nowhere near as strong as it should be. In the weeks proceeding this moment he's had very little to eat. Ronin has tried to force food into him, but the largest meal the alchemist has had was a bit of raw liver that he stole from Sugar in a leonine rage. Despite how Remi's arms tremble with the effort, he keeps the Star as close as he can.

It's weak, because so much of him is that way right now, but Remi can feel the lack of remorse echo out of Ronin and it makes him chuckle. Swiftly though it's followed up by an emotion rarely felt, and it takes Remi a few seconds to place it: it isn't guilt per say, but perhaps disappointment in himself. What he feels from Ronin is not regret, but perhaps some inarticulable notion that he should have been able to hold out on his own, somehow. The Star's explanation, if you can call it that, hardly lends much context. Once Remi realizes what he's feeling however, his smile is slow and understanding as he shifts that he might reach for his husband's hand. Threading his fingers through, he offers the Star a boyish smile, entirely without anger. "I'm happy to wait my turn." He says with a crooked grin. "Besides, I'm not sure what good I'd be for you just now."