["It's probably the only time I thought I was dreaming, and it felt like a dream, but turned out to be real after all."
It is, in its own way, a high compliment; Myr doesn't have words for it, but there's an ember in the Bond warm as the flush coloring his ears. Even after years of casual experience with anyone willing, and fewer--but still significant--years of a Faun's shamelessness, hearing something like that from someone he cares so deeply for can move him.]
I--you're-- [Mmm. Get your thoughts in order, Shivana. He breathes in a long slow breath, and out again.]
I'm not noble because I was born that way, amatus. I am what's been made of me, by the best teachers, and what I choose to make of myself--every day.
For a long time, [ah, and here is the opportunity to explain this,] I've chosen not to be your lover. Every reason I've given you for that is true--it's for your sake, not mine. I do not find you odious or unworthy of my attentions; whatever burdens you bring to me are ones I gladly shoulder.
I told you, once, I feared to be your whole world, and that is true, too. But more than that, [oh, guilt and shame, that he has to swallow down,] I'm afraid of what I would be tempted to do if I had that hold on you.
There are so many things I would like you to do, or try, or be, that are--truly--not mine to demand from you, even if I think you'd be happier, or grow from them. You will do them on your own time, or not, and I can but advise. But if we were lovers--I'd know I could ask without it seeming like a demand, and you'd listen.
[It would be so, so much easier to demand. It would be so, so tempting to do it, knowing he had something L hungered so fiercely for, and believing that he knew the best way to order his Witch's life.
It wouldn't be right but he could talk himself into it being necessary.
He reaches up with his free hand--the one not outstretched toward L--and rubs at his face beneath the blindfold.]
I'll give myself enough credit that I wouldn't do it, just as I'm not ever going to tell you I'd love you more if you'd just do one thing, pretty please. [There's an echo of someone else in how Myr says that, someone that isn't Myr, someone who once held that power over him.] --And if I do, you know, you're well within your rights to tell me to fuck off and stop breaking my promises.
[This is not--the polished presentation he'd hoped for; it isn't as stirring and story-perfect as he wants it to be, because--as it turns out--he's still raw in many places, unfinished and mutilated and a work-in-progress. The same as his Witch in kind, though--praise the Maker and His Bride--not degree.
He sits with that realization, and his own wrong-footed sense of awkwardness, for a long, long moment.
Across the room, Crookytail lifts her head to bump companionably at the underside of Cerise's fin. Hello, you.]
no subject
It is, in its own way, a high compliment; Myr doesn't have words for it, but there's an ember in the Bond warm as the flush coloring his ears. Even after years of casual experience with anyone willing, and fewer--but still significant--years of a Faun's shamelessness, hearing something like that from someone he cares so deeply for can move him.]
I--you're-- [Mmm. Get your thoughts in order, Shivana. He breathes in a long slow breath, and out again.]
I'm not noble because I was born that way, amatus. I am what's been made of me, by the best teachers, and what I choose to make of myself--every day.
For a long time, [ah, and here is the opportunity to explain this,] I've chosen not to be your lover. Every reason I've given you for that is true--it's for your sake, not mine. I do not find you odious or unworthy of my attentions; whatever burdens you bring to me are ones I gladly shoulder.
I told you, once, I feared to be your whole world, and that is true, too. But more than that, [oh, guilt and shame, that he has to swallow down,] I'm afraid of what I would be tempted to do if I had that hold on you.
There are so many things I would like you to do, or try, or be, that are--truly--not mine to demand from you, even if I think you'd be happier, or grow from them. You will do them on your own time, or not, and I can but advise. But if we were lovers--I'd know I could ask without it seeming like a demand, and you'd listen.
[It would be so, so much easier to demand. It would be so, so tempting to do it, knowing he had something L hungered so fiercely for, and believing that he knew the best way to order his Witch's life.
It wouldn't be right but he could talk himself into it being necessary.
He reaches up with his free hand--the one not outstretched toward L--and rubs at his face beneath the blindfold.]
I'll give myself enough credit that I wouldn't do it, just as I'm not ever going to tell you I'd love you more if you'd just do one thing, pretty please. [There's an echo of someone else in how Myr says that, someone that isn't Myr, someone who once held that power over him.] --And if I do, you know, you're well within your rights to tell me to fuck off and stop breaking my promises.
[This is not--the polished presentation he'd hoped for; it isn't as stirring and story-perfect as he wants it to be, because--as it turns out--he's still raw in many places, unfinished and mutilated and a work-in-progress. The same as his Witch in kind, though--praise the Maker and His Bride--not degree.
He sits with that realization, and his own wrong-footed sense of awkwardness, for a long, long moment.
Across the room, Crookytail lifts her head to bump companionably at the underside of Cerise's fin. Hello, you.]