[And thus the last of the tension in their shoulders melts away.]
< I can do that. >
[They don't expect it to be an enjoyable experience, that fight. But if he expects it and--if they're reading them correctly--welcomes it, then it might just be a worthy one.]
< You know, I suppose I do have some blame in this. I'm the one who encouraged you to find that path, after all. >
[As if they needed any confirmation that was what he wanted to hear. His hands are slow to return to his sides, to let go of them, but return they do. Zekarion takes a long moment to look at them, to consider their words and the consequences of his own.]
This is what happens when I'm given hope... my dear.
[He starts to step around them. He needs a hard drink, and not one to simply magic away the consequences of.]
[That sound of his name draws his steps to a stop quickly enough. Then... he feels his heart pounding in his chest and a chill on his neck, all of a sudden. Perhaps all his secret-keeping has become so instinctive that his subconscious is slow to catch on when it's no longer relevant.]
You know, [he starts, almost conversationally if not for the atmosphere he's set for this night. He doesn't turn to face them, but he answers them all the same.]
That was when I started to really look at you. More than all the rest.
[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.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
< I can do that. >
[They don't expect it to be an enjoyable experience, that fight. But if he expects it and--if they're reading them correctly--welcomes it, then it might just be a worthy one.]
< You know, I suppose I do have some blame in this. I'm the one who encouraged you to find that path, after all. >
no subject
[As if they needed any confirmation that was what he wanted to hear. His hands are slow to return to his sides, to let go of them, but return they do. Zekarion takes a long moment to look at them, to consider their words and the consequences of his own.]
This is what happens when I'm given hope... my dear.
[He starts to step around them. He needs a hard drink, and not one to simply magic away the consequences of.]
no subject
[They call after him softly before he can leave the room.]
< It was you, wasn't it? All those months ago, when everyone was showing up in eachother's dreams. >
no subject
You know, [he starts, almost conversationally if not for the atmosphere he's set for this night. He doesn't turn to face them, but he answers them all the same.]
That was when I started to really look at you. More than all the rest.
no subject
< 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.
no subject
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. >
no subject
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.]