[Oh, and how sorely Myr wishes to comfort that child, to assuage the ache he feels in his own chest. He realizes--dimly--the magnitude of what he's said; he has threatened the treasure that's drawn his beloved out into the light and life of the world. He's imperiled L's meaning in saying so, and how well he knows (with his own meanings bent and scattered and faltering) the hurt of that.

To say nothing of the complications Mello represents (the wounds the man's reappearance has reopened).

How tidy it would be if Light and Mello could be set to destroy each other. "Tidy" except for how it would leave L a ruin if that played out here and now, because for all Myr's Witch believes himself irredeemably broken in most human pursuits, he knows enough of duty and enough of love to try in the face of opposition.

And that has always mattered most, in Myr's estimation.]

It needn't mean the end, amatus. Not of you, or of him, or what's between you. The stakes are different here, and if he values you a fraction as much as you do him, [dubious, in Myr's overprotective estimation, but he must allow the chance,] you might find peace on your own terms here.

[But he will accede that now is not the time to untangle that knot; there's the more immediate problem that needs solving. Myr sighs, and sinks to rest on his hocks, before adding his other hand to wrap around L's.]

How long can you delay before he comes looking for you in person?