[The truth is painful, and it's what L's dedicated his life to finding in all its dark desolation. Perhaps there's an inextricable association that makes it therefore impossible not to seek pain, and all but inevitable to brace for it even where it was never intended. Myr didn't come here intending to leave his Bonded, and that is absurd. Unbelievable. Actually insane, given what L knows and (perhaps more so) what his paranoia and guilt have led him to assume.
Later, he'll realize that such assumptions were unfair to Myr, whose honesty and faith remain in the end steadfast... but at the time, in the revulsion so far transcending mere disappointment felt through their Bond, there had been no other reasonable conclusion. It had taken root and gained traction in their two weeks apart. Accepting it as fact had been natural and even comforting to L, because at least the world made sense again, and now that it's been ripped away...
He should probably feel relief. Instead, it's more along the lines of confusion and anger, and combined with the fear, it's probably a miserable cocktail for his Bonded to have poured vicariously down his throat.
L freezes and stares at the use of his real name; if he doubted that Myr was sincere before, it's no longer the case, but his shoulders still curl inward, his arms pulling protectively against his core.]
Then I misunderstood... it seemed so clear at the time.
[It's disturbing, actually, how far off the mark he was if this really is true, and he's never far off the mark. At least, he shouldn't be. Either way, there are troubling implications.]
Why did it seem so clear?
[And, more importantly, what redemption is possible for the kind of man who can only see one grim and solitary ending? L may have changed and grown since what happened between them, but the past can't be changed, and Niles won't stop coming. When he arrives, the pain will only come back to Myr, continuing a cycle only a masochist would want to be a part of.]
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Later, he'll realize that such assumptions were unfair to Myr, whose honesty and faith remain in the end steadfast... but at the time, in the revulsion so far transcending mere disappointment felt through their Bond, there had been no other reasonable conclusion. It had taken root and gained traction in their two weeks apart. Accepting it as fact had been natural and even comforting to L, because at least the world made sense again, and now that it's been ripped away...
He should probably feel relief. Instead, it's more along the lines of confusion and anger, and combined with the fear, it's probably a miserable cocktail for his Bonded to have poured vicariously down his throat.
L freezes and stares at the use of his real name; if he doubted that Myr was sincere before, it's no longer the case, but his shoulders still curl inward, his arms pulling protectively against his core.]
Then I misunderstood... it seemed so clear at the time.
[It's disturbing, actually, how far off the mark he was if this really is true, and he's never far off the mark. At least, he shouldn't be. Either way, there are troubling implications.]
Why did it seem so clear?
[And, more importantly, what redemption is possible for the kind of man who can only see one grim and solitary ending? L may have changed and grown since what happened between them, but the past can't be changed, and Niles won't stop coming. When he arrives, the pain will only come back to Myr, continuing a cycle only a masochist would want to be a part of.]