[And so they did again, and again... he was drawn to them like a moth to their flame. Unable to stop himself, until he started to enjoy the searing heat of it.
He turns to look over his shoulder. Zekarion only wants the source of that golden shine in the way that he wants their hands, their scent—because it's a part of them. But now they both know the other understands the stakes for the game. The veil isn't being lifted—they've set it alight to watch it burn.]
I stopped caring what that thing in your head can do a long time ago.
[He almost means it as a reassurance, to acknowledge they've interpreted his words the way he intended them.]
[A soft laugh leaves him as a small but sharp smirk curls his lips and narrows his eyes. Thanking him, despite everything he's just admitted to, and despite the battles he's deliberately set up before them. It's so absurd, and so... Dante.
His love for them only grows; his answer is sincere and so fond.]
You're welcome.
[Zekarion smiles at them for a few more seconds before turning once more to head towards the kitchen. Somewhere in the cupboards he'll find a silent space between dull and numb, where his thoughts can no longer drown out the call of sleep.]
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< Your parting words then, they reminded me of what you said just now. Your challenge. >
[So it was something of a recent realization. A hand reaches up to the necklace they've yet to remove, playing with the pendant.]
< Just so you know, when I said I was planning on getting you something in gold, it's not going to be that. >
[A last attempt at levity on their part, as well as a way to let him know they know what he's been seeing.
They know he knows why they can't just leave the Sinners behind, either.]
< What you said when I asked you to tell me who I am says that that's not what you're looking for anyway. >
no subject
[And so they did again, and again... he was drawn to them like a moth to their flame. Unable to stop himself, until he started to enjoy the searing heat of it.
He turns to look over his shoulder. Zekarion only wants the source of that golden shine in the way that he wants their hands, their scent—because it's a part of them. But now they both know the other understands the stakes for the game. The veil isn't being lifted—they've set it alight to watch it burn.]
I stopped caring what that thing in your head can do a long time ago.
[He almost means it as a reassurance, to acknowledge they've interpreted his words the way he intended them.]
You are my light with or without it.
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Because he remains the second star in their sky: the one that Dante can embrace but should never follow.
They'll light his way for as long as they can.]
< ...Thank you. >
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His love for them only grows; his answer is sincere and so fond.]
You're welcome.
[Zekarion smiles at them for a few more seconds before turning once more to head towards the kitchen. Somewhere in the cupboards he'll find a silent space between dull and numb, where his thoughts can no longer drown out the call of sleep.]