But my words, like silent raindrops fell

Remi There’s only two mistakes that I have made: Running from the people who could love me best, & trying to fix a world that I can’t change As Ronin pulled away, Remi's hands slipped to the captain's biceps, not at all trusting the distance between them. Through the darkness Remi peered, hardly knowing what he was looking for in Ronin's tear-tracked and blood stained face. He looked gaunt, exhausted, and broken in a way that the alchemist could hardly stomach. Remi frowned at Ronin's apology, neither needing nor wanting it. "Come on." Remi said, his voice impossibly resonant in the expansive high-ceilings of the temple. Releasing Ronin, a blanket suddenly appeared in Remi's hands. Draping it around Ronin's shoulders, Remi nodded gently leading the captain into one of the small alcoves alongside the wall with cushioned benches. "Grief can do that. You may well be sick, Ronin." Remi murmured, and then produced a small bucket which he held in one of his hands, just in case.