I shouldn't laugh, but I know I'm a failure in your eyes
Ronin wants to say more, tilting his head, but he wisely holds his tongue in his goddess's presence. At least until she's finished, and her words sting as acutely as if he'd plunged his hand into any one of the hanging candles. The Star draws himself up for a moment, the criticism prickling along his ego and begging him to swagger and headbutt one of the nearby trees. He doesn't, thankfully, huffing out a breath and seeming to deflate for a moment.
"I have not been fair to you," he says quietly. "Far from it. And for all of our flaws - mine, mostly - and all of our tribulations, you have only ever tried to give me the best. The best of you, the best of myself... and you are right. I have not given you the respect or the devotion that you deserve." Is it still a dangerous line that Ronin walks? Certainly, yes. But it's a sincere one, for once.
"I would change that now, though, if you would allow me to."
"I have not been fair to you," he says quietly. "Far from it. And for all of our flaws - mine, mostly - and all of our tribulations, you have only ever tried to give me the best. The best of you, the best of myself... and you are right. I have not given you the respect or the devotion that you deserve." Is it still a dangerous line that Ronin walks? Certainly, yes. But it's a sincere one, for once.
"I would change that now, though, if you would allow me to."
RONIN
