[L is tense and hesitant for a few watchful beats as Myr raises his staff only to momentarily stow it. His hands are open, an offer, welcoming. L's impulses to add and subtract distance are perfectly balanced in a span of indecision just long enough for Myr to explain his thoughts. L's already overlarge eyes widen as it unfolds, because it is...
...absurdly simple, all of it. To the point where he actually feels foolish that he needed to ask. More so, because Myr (as far as L knows, at least), is not aware of how he spends his solitary Friday evenings, or the fact that two of three nights are spent awake in a coffee shop or the Coven library instead of in any kind of home. L has myriad very elaborate reasons for why he chooses to do things the way he does, and in the end, none of them are actually good or satisfying.]
All of that's true.
[He picks his way back around the table, slowly, navigating around the chair with a careful shuffle. Again, he and Myr are almost close enough to touch.]
There's solace in finality, because it means that nothing else in fact can go wrong.
[He's not speaking of the end of a chapter, but of a book.]
I know it'll happen soon.
[He may have given Niles a reckless verbal nudge, after leaving Myr's sickened side.]
There are days I'm certain I'd fight him with everything, and there are days I...
[Well.]
I don't know what's right. I'm just so tired, and if we were to annul our Bond, today, it... would bring me comfort to think that you won't have to feel any part of this.
[His head in the harbor, his limbs scattered in districts throughout Geardagas, his torso rotting in a shallow grave in the Wilde. His imagination has supplied a lot of very vivid scenarios that he's not likely to come back from with any amount of healing magic or Coven-sanctioned resurrection, and he had told Niles, himself, to be thorough about it.]
no subject
...absurdly simple, all of it. To the point where he actually feels foolish that he needed to ask. More so, because Myr (as far as L knows, at least), is not aware of how he spends his solitary Friday evenings, or the fact that two of three nights are spent awake in a coffee shop or the Coven library instead of in any kind of home. L has myriad very elaborate reasons for why he chooses to do things the way he does, and in the end, none of them are actually good or satisfying.]
All of that's true.
[He picks his way back around the table, slowly, navigating around the chair with a careful shuffle. Again, he and Myr are almost close enough to touch.]
There's solace in finality, because it means that nothing else in fact can go wrong.
[He's not speaking of the end of a chapter, but of a book.]
I know it'll happen soon.
[He may have given Niles a reckless verbal nudge, after leaving Myr's sickened side.]
There are days I'm certain I'd fight him with everything, and there are days I...
[Well.]
I don't know what's right. I'm just so tired, and if we were to annul our Bond, today, it... would bring me comfort to think that you won't have to feel any part of this.
[His head in the harbor, his limbs scattered in districts throughout Geardagas, his torso rotting in a shallow grave in the Wilde. His imagination has supplied a lot of very vivid scenarios that he's not likely to come back from with any amount of healing magic or Coven-sanctioned resurrection, and he had told Niles, himself, to be thorough about it.]