know it all

Ronin can't look at his husband, not even as hands he knows better than his own come to cup his face, his eyes pressed shut behind tears that still want to streak down his cheeks. And when the first surges of feeling rock through him, it isn't the sort of thing that inspires warmth and comfort, but it's as real as it gets. It's a love that's flawed and complicated and the complete opposite of the kind of warmth and fuzziness that his goddess had painted for him. And gods if Ronin doesn't soak it all in. "I love you too," he mumbles, not that he even really hears himself saying the words, and he reaches out to clutch the Lullaby close against him, burying his face against the side of his neck. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I just... you have no idea how much I need you right now. I went to see Safrin and it all went..." Wrong? Right? Gods, he doesn't even know. "She painted a picture of life if I just belonged to her. And I... I wanted it, just for a second." Or two. Enough to hate not saying yes. RONIN if there's one thing i'm good at, it's surviving