[Myr's fingers tighten on L's, a spasm as involuntary as the painful way his heart contracts to hear that. It's another constant of their Bond to know why and how often his Witch flirts with oblivion; it is knowledge he shoulders, not gladly, but with patience and compassion.

It is also something he can never, ever let himself become inured to, and so every reference to it still wakes a little frisson of grief--even if he's getting better at working around it.]

Then let's buy you time to rest from it, intimus. Stay the whole week with me. Everett won't begrudge me the time off to stand watch over you.

[It is a pittance, really, held against the months--the lifetime--L had lived burning as brilliantly as he could, ever-frantic in pursuit (and then, with Niles around, escape). But it is what Myr can offer right now, while he struggles to find a better solution.]