[At times, particularly times like this, Liem struggles to absorb the meaning of the things Set says to him. He feels that he isn’t grasping the god’s lesson, not least of all because he has never in his life felt in control of whether or not people would love him. Love has always been a fleeting commodity to him, sometimes given freely and sometimes not, often for reasons that seemed entirely outside of his control. He can understand that trying to find a pattern in the chaos might be futile, but the prospect of accepting that when and if he receives love will always be completely random only makes him despair.

But the hot, familiar solidity of Set’s chest beneath his hands remains a comfort. He can be convinced, at least in the present day, that the god does love him, does wish to keep him close—for as long as they have remaining to them in Kenos.]

As long as you think of me, and you don’t neglect to tell me when you wish things of me, that is enough.

[Beneath the cool weight of Set’s collar, Liem traces his shard with gentle fingertips. Leaning closer, he brushes a kiss against Set’s cheek.]

Come find me when you’re happy, or upset… and share it with me.