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Liem Talbott
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Liem's mindscape is dark; quiet; contemplative. Any feelings or sensations that Liem doesn't intentionally project himself seem distant, as though echoing from a far-off room. Following any given sense to its source is bafflingly difficult.
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You did not answer my other question, Liem Talbott.
[ Careful as those words are, Set won't let them stand uncountered and tested. He leans into the other man's space, bowing a little so that he can peer through the curtain of red that was his hair and feel the weight of his mouth as it purses and frowns. As he reaches deeper against Liem's person to hold his waist, and draw him in. Patient, and brutally persistent.
Is that treatment you expect from me? To be secondary to a goal, to a greater calling?
[ The answer clearly matters to him, investigatory as it is. He wants to know where their friendship is going, where Liem envisions it stands — if he imagines it changing, or if he is simply clutching at whatever he gets, for better or worse. Set, master of conflict and discord, wishes to push through that barrier on Liem's heart.
( He knows he will choose his son, always. But, Liem doesn't stand against what he wants or will choose. He is with it. )]
Look at me. [ And he thumbs the arch of Liem's cheek, fond and firm with possessiveness. ] — it's not solely about blame, or importance of our work. They are not mutually exclusive from wanting to not be lonely anymore. You could ask me for that. We could make it new and real, together.
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And this not only hurts him more, but maligns those who would care for him as well.
His brows knit as Set pulls him relentlessly nearer, refusing him any space between them. The corners of his mouth pull down, a little a little defensive, bruise-tender, despite his efforts to pretend otherwise.]
Of course I expect it.
[Though he attempts to stick wholly to pragmatism, he is deeply unhappy to discuss this topic, and cannot entirely hide it. He directs his attention at Set as the god demands, but some old sullenness dwells in his gaze, like he doesn’t appreciate being forced to state the obvious in this way: like the act of offering him something he covets is just a ploy to be made conditional later. Still hooked around Set’s back, Liem’s hand curls into an uneasy fist.]
I don’t want to ask for anything more. I didn’t say I am lonely.
[Even though he is.]
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You can, though. You can ask me.
[ It's not a hard thing to be asked. Hayame yearns to fight alongside Set, and he will one day do that for her. She has more than earned it. Dimitri will know the ugliness of war so that he can find an era of peace. The people of Springstar ( and the few of Highstorm ) who look to him as a real god, a god to pray to, will get what they want as well. The spirit of it, if not the letter. Ruby receives a protector. Liem — Liem, too, can have whatever he asks for. A friend was pressed into his hands, and returned tenfold by his caretaking and shy affections. ]
Did you know that the devotions of others have granted me my divinity again? Not in full, but enough to spend my might where it belongs And it belongs to you, Liem. You are a good friend, one — one I have never deserved to have. You have cared for me —
[ Reaching behind him, he places a hand across that uneasy fist and holds it. Nary an inch of space left between them for it. ]
Let me care for you, too. Because I really, truly want to. Because you deserve to be chosen.
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There is no good reason for it. He has cared for Set, as much as a mortal man can. He knows the god wants Liem to rely on him, just as Liem asked Set to rely on him in turn. Still, the prospect of admitting that he craves more than what he already gets from him makes his stomach churn and his skin crawl with nerves.]
All I wish for is to not be alone, [he murmurs. The words crawl grudgingly up his throat, a halting, uneasy confession.] Can I call upon you if I need someone at my side? Is that aid you want to give?
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It is practical, to offer his blessing as a god to those he prides. Those he considers highly. Hayame bears it as a warrior. Dimitri bears it as a warrior. Rudbeckia bears it because she is to be protected. Liem — Liem would bear it, because he knows the burden of a god's consideration and care. Because... Liem, like Set, knows the agony of always, always being alone. Alone even in a crowded room. Alone and different. Alone and isolated. Alone and strange, a part of one world ( two worlds, three worlds? ) and yet not really belonging to any of them.
A god who looks in upon his own kind, because he was made for wrongness and a man born of two halves that make a painful, unloveable whole. ]
I think, [ he murmurs, ] that people do not deserve to be alone even if they are difficult.
[ Color builds in his face. It is a hard emotion to describe, made harder still because he cannot act unselfish. Cannot look upon Liem's welfare and freely give something, but must rationalize it as a thing that benefits him. And it does, it always has. He benefits others, too. Power, authority, information...
Set is difficult. He has always wanted ( begged, pleaded, gasped and cried and mourned for it — ) to be loved, even so. Maybe that, in the end, is why he loves the most difficult people in Kenos; why he cares so much for the unloveable, the most frightened of them, the ones who push him back and run away, the ones for whom loving and being loved was never a reality. ]
I told you, in that broken church: unlike anyone else in this world, I will truly accept you. You said I could call on you, in my time of need. You can do that, too. I want to give you the things you can barely stand to admit to yourself, let alone anyone. The things you think will finally be too much — a step that carries you too far, beyond what other people can forgive and forget and rationalize. I want you to know, without a doubt, that nothing you do or say will take you beyond me. I can do that, so accept me.
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He does not want to even acknowledge his own wants, out of certainty that if he did, if he allowed himself to wish wholeheartedly for things he does not deserve—the ache of that wanting would gnaw him apart from the inside. He does not want to acknowledge them, even when Set is clutching him like a possession and murmuring promises in his ear.
But he does want what the god offers; he wants it desperately. So perhaps greed will once again be his doing after all.]
Very well, Set.
[He sighs it under his breath, and the hand Set is clutching turns and splays to clasp their fingers together. And he tips his face up, so his lips can brush the red of the god’s cheek.]
I want what you are, and what you have to give. I will accept what you offer.
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Good. Then, [ he exhales soft and golden, a flowing sound like the rasp of silk sands flowing endlessly into dunes and waves. Tossed by the wind, pieces of things town down to motes over endless time; he breathes to the middle of their clasped hands and noses along Liem's cheek. ] Carry my blessing, Liem Talbott.
For you, I will always manifest when you call. I grant you an effigy of my might — so that even when you are alone, you will have me to call upon in battle. In times of loneliness.
[ Behind Liem, warmth pools in the form of sands divided from Set; drawn from his form to slice off and manifest in his shape — sand, expressive as him in the way that it smiles so deft and private down at the priest and dips to kiss the top of his head. ]
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Despite the nature of Set’s boon, to Liem it still seems more like a gift from a cherished companion than a blessing from a divinity. His relationships with the divine have never been like this; even Abadar has always been distant and untouchable, his invisible presence felt only in the flow of certain parts of the world. Though the power Liem wields is certainly divine in nature, born of their own covenant, he has never felt his patron’s arms around him or his lips against his hair.
Set is a strange god; if they succeed in bringing this war to a conclusion, he will miss him sorely.]
Thank you, Set.
[He is so warm. Liem cannot help but seek his closeness, splaying his fingers over his skin, despite his distracted awareness of the second presence at his back. The reality of dealing with two of Set at the same time is both startling and a little overwhelming to contemplate.]
I will make good use of your boon, I promise.
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For our continued victories, [ because he is the god of war. ]
And for you, whom I can call on and will call on me. For this.
[ And his hand slips to rest over Liem's heart, his smile twitching briefly — because, there is practicality in blessing Liem. It is an empowerment, a way to hold onto him against the tide of Zenith. And Set... Set must tell him, quiet and without shame. Only thought, only consideration as he carves away further sentiment in favor of updating one of his dearest companions. Someone he truly... frighteningly, can trust in. ]
— I did something, to win the Oracle. I offered something I did not think I needed, because... because I had given it up long ago to save myself from pain, and the future does not call for such a thing from me. I fed it my altruism. And I worry I made a mistake in doing so. I still love, and I still care... but, I do not know what this will mean.
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Until a frown steals over his expression, and he is obliged to pull his face back so he can look at the god again.]
And the Oracle… accepted it?
[He knew that some had given the Oracle grisly gifts in the maze—who didn’t know about Gen, at least?—but he had not considered someone might give up something like this. That Set might give up something like this.]
That is… [certainly a decision he has made. Liem starts again.] But what about when you return home?
[Is atonement not inherently an unselfish act?]
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Yes.
[ Actually, it did. As intangible a prize as it was, the Oracle had accepted his altruism as worthy proof of his conviction to win it over for Meridian. He had conceptualized it in one way, but did not know what would actually happen, for him to be rid of such a thing as altruism. A sentiment that had never served him save to make him suffer, and now that he was rid of it — things did feel more clear. More direct, and he'd begun to conceptualize victory in more austere terms. ]
I figure, I will deal with it when I do return. But, if I am incapable of doing whatever it takes to win now, how can I ever envision a victory for us? I fed it my altruism because, I am not unselfish. And in the future, I cannot concern myself with the happiness or well-being of those who oppose us without... without getting something in return that will bolster our might. Don't you agree?
[ He doesn't know if he wants Liem to agree or not, just to... just to hear why he did it. Someone needs to understand that Set is also willing to make sacrifices. But, even his atonement is... it's for a goal, for his son. He's felt guilt for the treatment of the women and children, for his crimes against Egypt, but one doesn't need to be altruistic about upholding the balance divine scale, right? He's not Ma'at, he's Set.
He does hold a little tighter to Liem, as if — afraid. ] It is fine if you do not. If you... cannot trust my intentions toward you anymore, because of this. But, I never really wanted you pure of intention. I am greedy. I am obsessive. Possessive. Unkind and harsh. It... do you think that means my love is lesser?
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But in the heart of him, he knows he is not happy.]
I understand the nature of your conviction, [is what he says. He does not disagree that shedding one’s altruistic desires might help them pursue victory with more focus.
At what cost, though? He is loath to contemplate it, given the die has been cast regardless. Perhaps Set can still atone, even if he can learn nothing from his penance. Perhaps it will even be enough, in the eyes of his son.
When Set first sought him out months ago, Liem had agreed to give him his counsel. That had been the beginning of their arrangement, before the god had demanded more. Offered more. Only, now, Liem finds himself balking at the necessity of answering Set’s question. As the lines between priestly consultant and close companion blur, he realizes too late that they also seem to be closing around him like strands of a net.
He does not quite know what else to say.]
I would like to believe this is of no concern to me.
[But he is not sure that he does. And at least, if he does believe it makes no difference, it is only because he didn’t really expect to be loved, truly loved, in the first place. But of what comfort is that?]
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[ Against his will ( what will? he has none, no ability to resist the worst, no capability to rally against the tide — ), he concludes his efforts to be — to be, what? What does he want from Liem, beyond to be at his side? Perhaps the way he has been thinking of the small, growing thing between is but a delusion. After all, he is a madman.
If a friend cannot bear to give him honest counsel, he knows he is not worth what it would take for Liem to love him. Such pain he would cause such a dear person. And yet, he still covets it all. Hands slipping from where they had rested, warm around Liem's body, to caress up the length of his arms, to his hands. Set squeezes them, quiet and visibly rueful. Not quite apologetic, but ridden with regret. With unease that grows catastrophically fast. ]
Of course. We need not — you need not burden yourself with concerns further than your heart can bear. I will carry the rest for you.
[ Because a love like Set's is lesser, he doesn't know why he asked the question. Liem gave him a ring, and people have been asking him to whom he is "engaged to" and such a thing does not exist in his era, but he read about it and recognized it and wondered — ]
But. Did you know what people would think, to see me wearing your token?
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The hands that Set grips curl, clutching savagely at warm fingers. Liem dips away from the terrible emotion lurking behind Set’s expression, his forehead dropping heavily against the god’s shoulder. He does not want to speak. Some painful, iron-hot shape has lodged itself in his throat, and he does not know what will happen if he tries.
Stupid, stupid. Stupid of him to mourn something he never had to begin with. Get over it, Liem. Don’t be hysterical over nothing, for god’s sake, not while he’s still here—]
That is no one’s business… [he whispers, miserably, not trusting himself to speak any louder. His face feels hot against the smooth gold of Set’s collar.] … but yours, and mine.
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he didn't think anyone wanted. Not with the way they spoke of his dalliances with the Zenites, of his fluidity as he straddled the line between Meridian and Zenith, of his aching need to spread himself thinner and thinner among the world until he was mad with it. And all it has done, in the end, this act he thought was for the best, is drive some pain into Liem. He can smell it, feel it in the tremble of his voice. ]
I do love you.
[ It's hard to say, so directly. He's alluded to it before, hinted at it while he spoke of his feelings for the most painful people he wanted to understand and accept and have for his own. Never so concretely to Liem, but — saying the words had always felt cheap and fragile, compared to showing him. Proving it to him, even if he had to drag him around. ]
Nothing about the way I feel for you has changed, except — I do not love you at my own expense. I will love you and be more for you. I do not want to sacrifice parts of myself that are unlovable just to be able to give myself to you. And I do not want you to do that either. That — that is what my decision means, to me.
[ It means he doesn't want to be less than what he is, nor does he want that for Liem. ]
I may have given up my altruism, but I would never be able to love you any way but shallowly if I had it still. I would not be able to be greedy for you. Or even say these words.
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So you sacrificed something else, instead.
[Something lovable, he doesn’t say. But this is what he has done, is it not? Decided to become harder, sharper, more focused in pursuit of his goals. An eminently reasonable decision to make, in many ways, given their circumstances. Resenting it is worse than foolish.
It is just so painful a thing to feel robbed of, when Set had so relentlessly persuaded him to covet not just his desire and his companionship, but also his protection—something he struggled to even accept, much less rely on. He has spent so much of his life striving to earn the care of people around him; he cannot bear the thought of being trapped by such desperate compulsions with Set, too.]
You are a liar, Set. “I need not burden myself”? [He mumbles it against the hot column of Set’s neck, knowing he is being cruel and still, heedlessly, speaking on regardless.] You cannot even be fully greedy for me. You don’t want me; you just want me to belong to you.
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Liem thinks him a liar, and it hurts. Deeply and sharply, to be thought of as someone who is false; except, that he has always worked to be seen in certain ways. Not a vulnerable creature, not a weak one. Strength was always part of him, that redheaded god of war — Egypt's unconquered soldier; then, strength had been taken from him by someone he'd loved, forcing him into submission and,
he's always fought to be seen as strong, since then. Someone to believe in, or yield to. And Liem calls him a liar, which hurts so much. ]
You said it first.
[ His voice curls a little, sharpening like brittle glass. Liem is crying, and over what? Altruism? It doesn't serve them, it doesn't protect them, it doesn't mean anything for them or Meridian or the future they're working toward! Does altruism even exist? If so, how is it healthy? HOw is it fair to offer all of oneself and want nothing in return? ]
"I would like to believe this is of no concern to me." [ Like an animal that knows only violence, he pushes back a little. His body tensing, as if ready to tear away from Liem and leave him exposed and upset; he digs his heels in, prickling with anger in place of the misery he's feeling. ]
It either is, or isn't. And so what if the way I love you is lesser, in your eyes? Do you even know what altruism is, to me? It is asking for nothing from you in return. Like you're not worth what you offer. That's stupid!
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He hates this—hates disappointing someone who had come to him for understanding, hates crumbling apart and revealing all the weakest and most selfish parts of himself, hates his own pitiful humiliation at having wished for something Set was never, even from the beginning, prepared to give him—and hates that Set must witness all of it.
He hates it almost too much to speak, and instead drags in a harsh, shuddering breath as Set talks about his worth. As though that isn’t the problem; as though he hadn’t wanted, just once, foolishly, to be valued independently of what he might have to give.]
The care I have laid at your feet was never meant to buy your affection.
[He gave it because he could, because to him, that is what love is. And he gave it without expecting repayment; only the pleasure of making someone dear to him happy.
Of all the things to make into currency, this seems like the very worst.]
I am weary of love that must be measured by what I have to offer.
[It is the easiest love to find, he has discovered, and it has kept him from starving—but after too long it begins to taste like ash.]
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[ The explosion comes, abrupt and cascading. Behind Liem, the silken warmth of the cloned body holds him without flinching or crushing him; if anything, Set's copy is still gently affectionate, face pressed into Liem's hair and hands so gentle on his waist, the truth of Set's being, because there is no mask he can make such a simple thing wear. His prime body, however, curls into himself. His hands cover his ears, as if to block out the way Liem continues to push against him, to misunderstand him ( or, is it, as always, that Set lacks; that something inside of him is incapable of being anything someone wants? ).
His fingers fist in his hair, and then his hands find Liem's face and frame it. Hard and fast, as if ready to crush his skull between his palms as he searches for those strange, dark eyes. Set's own teeth bite into his lower lip, his brow twisted between anger and woe as he looks at Liem and tries to find the bridge between them. ]
That is not what I mean, Liem Talbott! You could offer me nothing at all, and I would love you. For you to think I, of all people, measure you by such criteria is not correct. It will never be correct! I am not bought by you, I am not weighing your soul — ! I just do! I just have, steadily and certainly, come to want to love you. Choose to love you!
[ Nephthys had known, once, that Set was a deep romantic. Awkward and unsure, fumbling — but so very, very sincere. A liar, Liem had called him. Sincere, his wife had once known him to be. To be mortal, loved by a god, is akin to madness, is it not? ]
You... augh! [ A frustrated noise, and he shoves his forehead to Liem's. His teeth flash, biting down on the man's bottom lip frantically, frenetic in energy. ]
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More shocking than the revelation of Set’s bitter, desperate devotion is the idea that he—that anyone—would choose this. Would choose Liem, and not just love him, but choose to love him, against every instinct he has; something so unexpected he has no recourse against it.]
But…
[He cannot finish the thought. The double at his back is still keeping him captive, gentle hands like hooks, painful to tear himself away from—and Set advances on him like a stormfront. A small, shocked sound escapes him as Set leans in and his teeth find Liem’s lip, a sharp, rude sting.]
Set—
[As if to spite him, his heart throbs fiercely with sudden, savage longing, and his fingers splay up Set’s chest to slide over the sides of his neck, and his forehead continues to rest against Set’s, lips lingering at the corner of his mouth. Despite himself, he still so desperately wants everything Set gives him, no matter how wild or painful. Even when all his thoughts are thrown into confusion, this truth remains inescapable: he wants to belong to this tempestuous god.
But he must make one thing clear.]
That is not “lesser.” It is more than anyone has yet given me.
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I am not so different than I was before, that you cannot still trust me with your heart.
[ A lot of him that was good and righteous and sweet was gone, anyways. Torn from his body by violence, left to fester and decay and be picked over by vultures in the form of other men with hungry hands and mean eyes. Ruined by someone's insane idea of love and left to survive a shell of a man, a protector become a tyrant. And he still, even without his altruism, felt love. Was himself. Just a little sharper, given particular situations. Choices made would be built on different needs and foreseen results.
So, he breathes those words against Liem's bitten mouth and pushes himself against the other, sweeping hands across his face and throat, his waist. As if trying to touch all of him at once, not realizing that with his power, he honestly could. ]
Deliberately. That is how I feel everything for you.
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But perhaps Set would not love him for that. That is a strange thought—and a familiar one. Wondering what about him might be lovable, and what is not.]
Deliberately, [he repeats, breath ghosting over the desert god’s skin. It seems, to him, incongruous: just short of impossible. The warm hands wandering his body spark an apprehensive, untrusting hope beneath shivering skin, greedy and suspicious all at once.]
You will still choose to love me, even if I offer you nothing in return?
[Senseless. Impossible for him now, surely. He must gain something from such a love, after all.]
Even if loving me is difficult? Even if… [Somehow, horridly, this is the thing he struggles most to say out of all of it.] Even if I disappoint you, in the end?
[Even if he is not worth it after all?]
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Sickened by himself, for had he not also whispered to Liem while curled in his lap, that he hoped they would have a relationship that was not transactional. That a price did not have to be paid by either of them. And then, he had given up the ability to truly make that a reality. Now, he had to get something from Liem. More than that, he wanted something from Liem — the acknowledgment, the companionship, the affection and trust. Why were those things he should not ask for? Why should he accept "nothing" as a valid response, as if Liem himself did not represent the whole of himself? ]
"You cannot refrain from one and still provide the other."
[ Liem had said that to him, and then — he had come back to him. Back from the comfort of Zenith, as he regained his hope.
His nose feels full. Why is it that he always ends up crying so pitifully around the people that matter to him, in Kenos? Set has always been such a sentimental thing, hiding the truth of himself behind harsh masks and determination and cruelty. Really, he's a huge romantic, a creature that wants to be loved and accepted, who has room to be himself and known.
( Even if I disappoint you, in the end? ) ]
Even if. Even so.
[ He sniffles, grossly and hates himself for it. Buries his face low in Liem's shirt collar and pretends like he's not about to leave a trail of tears and warm breath soaking the nice fabric. ]
I will not refrain from choosing you. Because I want — I want you to choose me too, for the same reasons you think you are not... worth it.
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He knows he cannot receive love without wanting to give back in turn; the idea is not believable even in passing. But that is not the point. Whether he wants to give Set anything is not the point, and his embrace turns desperately tight, clutching at Set’s back as he grapples with his utter inability to be good for the man who is even now trying to confess his love for him.
It doesn’t matter. It doesn't matter if Set promises to choose Liem, if he says that he loves him, if he says he is worth it, because he still wants in return: Liem’s devotion, Liem’s loyalty, Liem’s love. And one thing he knows is that he has always disappointed the people who have wanted these things from him, and they have ever decided that they didn’t want them after all.]
I’m not.
[He mumbles it against the god’s hair, even as one hand climbs up to stroke the back of his head, a melancholy, self-comforting touch gentle over glossy red silk. Set is right, though. He’s not worth it. There’s something wrong with him—with the love he has to offer. He’s sure even Set will realize it eventually.
I want you to choose me too, he said.
It inspires a terrible panic in Liem, because choosing someone has always meant, to him, that he would try to be whatever they wanted—and that has always been the beginning of the end. Shame aches so wretchedly behind his ribs, strangles him so tightly, that he can barely breathe. He cannot stop his eyes from stinging again, spilling tears down already-damp cheeks.]
Set. I don’t know how: To love properly. To be worth loving.
You weren’t supposed to ask that of me.
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His hands sweep up, to the wetness on Liem's cheeks. Such a stoic man, and here he stands crying — and why? Because someone wants to love him and be loved in return? Liem is crying. The way that Set had wept in his lap, sobbing because he hadn't even had the opportunity to help this man at the time and he had thought him lost. Had prepared, then, to still be his friend even if it meant ending his life to keep his promise to his son. And then Liem had come back, and in part for him. How strange, to be shown such consideration!
So, he dips down a little, to place his face at the line of Liem's eye — and drags the warmth of his tongue, animal-like, across the salt of his tears before meeting his eye.
I do not believe that about you. Any of it. Let me learn who you are, and determine that for myself. I do not need you to love me — I want you to. And if... you do not, that is fine. But, I will not accept that you are incapable of it.
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