[This is the biggest difference between them, isn't it? Lobelia has lived his life knowing nothing will last forever, the memory of those things contained within his mind, within the confines of a conch shell, only to be relived through recollection. Lobelia has never taken an issue with that. Never will, so he'd like to think, glancing down at the man on his chest.]
Can you live your life in fear of everything you'll lose? Life is finite, Vergilius. Eternity only awaits the damned. It's as they say: it's better to lose something you've loved than to have never loved at all.
[But none of that is news to Vergilius. Even so, Lobelia has a question for him.]
[Can you live your life in fear of everything you'll lose?]
[Yes.]
[Because he has.]
[Because even as he expected it, even as he was aware of it, it still happened. Knowing it would've happened didn't change a thing. He expected the other shoe to fall, and it did.]
[He doesn't meet the other's eyes, a bitter taste at the back of his throat.]
....I don't deserve to truly "live", Lobelia.
[In the end, the karma was just payment. He obtained happiness. But it was never meant to be.]
[Everything would be taken away from him in time.]
[What a sad answer. No verbal admonishments come Vergilius' way, but the aching of his heart is only worsened by Vergilius' insistence on denying himself all of life's pleasures. Even so, Lobelia understands his man well enough to drag his contradictions out into the light and beat them mercilessly before him.]
[Carding his fingers through Vergilius' hair, Lobelia lightly tugs it, as if chiding the man.]
When someone you've come to love dies, you'll find your heart mourning for them regardless of whether you "deserved" to love them or not. I thought myself foolish, but even I know better than to deny myself the simple pleasure of loving another.
[I do. I do deserve every bit of pain. I made so many suffer. I made children into orphans. Its all because of me.]
[What a wretched, pathetic, despicable soul he is.]
[The fingertips move to tug through his hair, and he lets out a noise as if in protest. He's a beaten animal not even moving to lick at his own wounds. Let him be, let him be-]
Its not so simple. [He wishes it was. His voice cracks on his lips, like the sound from an old set of stairs.] I would be a hypocrite. The last person who could hold anyone close is me.
[Never, never, never. If there is one thing Lobelia won't do, it's leave Vergilius alone. Happiness at any cost. If the only thing standing between Vergilius and happiness is himself, then Vergilius is just as much his adversary as his reason for being.
What a predicament. Regardless, Lobelia remains undaunted, fingers slipping from his hair to brush along his cheek.]
Humans are hypocritical creatures by virtue of their very being. Moreover, you are a hypocrite. You may not want to hold others close to your heart, but refusing to acknowledge that you have does not make those feelings simply disappear.
Humans can't help but love one another. If it were not for love, there would be no loss.
[And the fact that Vergilius has lost so much speaks to how very human he isβ how he can't help but love and be loved in turn. He's right, isn't he? Lobelia won't hear any arguments to the contrary.]
[Funny, how its coming from a man who made him so miserable for his own selfish ends before. Funny, how it comes from someone who ripped out his heart, killed him, and then died for...what, his sake?]
[His fingers curl momentarily. He's a stubborn old bull, he knows he is. You can lead him to water, can't make him drink.]
After everything I've done, its only right for me to cut myself off from that.
[Another argument. He's pitiful, he is. He's been in this cold darkness of penance for too long. Even with the children, he was there.]
[He would've been relieved if one of the children stabbed him in the back. That dream he had seen before with Lapis doing just that had been expected.]
[It was love that drove him to this point, love that saw him commit so many sins, make so many mistakes, and it's that same love that he extends only to Vergilius now. Love is something to live for, Lobelia has come to found, but he is far from unfamiliar with the meaningless existence Vergilius has been putting himself through for all these years.
Lobelia knew nothing but emptiness while Vergilius knows better, and yet he refuses to see his boon for what it is. Yet he insists on punishing himself, toiling beneath the weight of his own sins. To call himself envious of having that option simply wouldn't be enough, a bit of that frustration spilling out in the way he sharply tugs on Vergilius' ear.]
Homme stupide. I've never met someone as brilliant and yet so foolish as you. Perhaps that is the source of my heartache? You're quite infuriating, you know!
[It takes a lot to dig under Lobelia's skin and prompt very real anger from him, but Vergilius manages so effortlessly. Love, hate, anger, grief... He should be thanking Vergilius for showing him these things, but right now, Lobelia can only seethe beneath the surface.]
You promised to try, non? To reach for happiness for the sake of those who draw their happiness from you. If this is your attempt at a trial run, you've failed miserably.
[OW? He's making a face, that is his EAR. YOU BINCH.]
When did I promise that? [Now he's looking up at Lobelia, eyes flaring.] That's the point. Happiness for others. Not for myself.
[And something defeated sort of sits in his body, the tension abating as soon as it came. He listens to Lobelia's heart, warm and steady and strong. He had held it in his hands not too long ago. Even that, he didn't deserve, even if it felt so right at the time, in the heat of anger.]
[Incorrect? This is Lobelia's ear now. Blood pacts are legally binding! Still, Lobelia knows he'll only infuriate Vergilius more if he keeps yanking on him, so he releases his ear without much fuss. It's not like tearing his ear off will make him see the error of his ways.]
Non, non, non! We've discussed this! Insisting on being miserable all the time will only bring unhappiness to those who rely on you! If the gods can forgive insurmountable sins, then why can't man?
[Because man doesn't want to. When Lobelia considers the reasons why, the answers easily come to him.]
You're addicted to the pain, Vergilius. You claim not to be self-serving or hypocritical, but the only one served by your self-flagellation is you. Have you not realized this?
[And sins cannot be washed away just by walking away from them, in his opinion. Why is his EGO a mantle of blood, a laurel of thorns? They're made to be worn to eternity, painful as they are.]
[The next part makes him actually lift his head up, incredulous.]
What? Addicted? [He's never been called this - sure, he's considered himself selfish, but for something like this?] Oh, pray tell, who else is going to bear the burden, then? You don't understand anything.
[Tsk, tsk. Lobelia has never been intimidated by that ugly glare and today won't be the day he backs down from it. Exhaling his frustrations in a long, thin sigh, he brushes the backs of his fingers along Vergilius' scarred cheek and pulls on a practiced smile.]
I am, garΓ§on bΓͺte. Did I not promise to bear your burdens with you and bring you happiness? [Cheekily:] Until death do we part. You are a stubborn man, but I will break you down eventually. That, too, is a promise.
[What's all this...? Vergilius was so passionate earlier when he was biting the fuck out of his finger. What happened? Was all of that heat and passion simply him venting his frustrations after reliving his memories?
Lobelia sighs so loudly and dramatically that he practically shouts. Oh, the Hugh Manatee.........]
What is marriage if not a union between two people who care for one another? [DON'T YOU CARE ABOUT HIM, VERG? WON'T YOU EVER ADMIT THIS???] You're so cruel! I have feelings, you know!
[Ah! What a wonderful response! Lobelia is trying really, really hard not to let his excitement spill over and ruin such a rare sight, but it's impossible not to tremble with joy. Gap moe Verg real???]
Ahhhh...! Vous Γͺtes si mignon!
[Mission Stay Calm: successfully failed.]
You have a choice here, Vergilius! Break your vows and crush my spirits into tiny pieces or remain true to your word and make us both happy. The choice is yours to make!
[It's that same tryst that occupies Lobelia's mind now, the moment Vergilius had a change of heart and dropped a single rope into that well of despair, rescuing him from it. He could have guided his ship into the rocks and destroyed him, could have killed him in every conceivable way, and yet he didn't. And yet he couldn't, that heart of his much too big for its own good.
That's precisely why Lobelia has to protect it. That's why he will protect it, a warm palm settling atop Vergilius' hand to ruffle his hair. He doesn't mean to treat him like one might a child, but Vergilius had tried to soothe him in a similar fashion not that long ago, hadn't he? Right now, Lobelia can feel his heart beating some ways below his own, a sacred treasure he will never again defile.]
Merci.
[I love you doesn't follow, the words lodged in his throat. It's fine, it's fine.]
I've entrusted all of myself to you, so please take good care of me. In return, know that I will stop at nothing to do the same.
[Please take good care of me. And that hair ruffle...it should be something to annoy him, but it doesn't. It doesn't at all.]
[Ah. Lobelia knows his soft spots too well. How can he resist a thing like that? Even someone like Lobelia, with his blood-stained past, responsible for the deaths of thousands, even his own parents...]
[Even something like that seems unable to stop him. Lobelia is not a child to protect in some tiny little corner, hidden away from the cruel world. He's quite different. But all the same, he can't abandon him, just like he never abandoned the idea of creating a better world for a man whose bloodstains and anger could outweigh his own.]
[I wanted to create a world where even you could live in peace.]
[....He raises his head, reaching with his left hand to grasp the other's, glancing at his handiwork and Lobelia's handiwork between entwined fingers.]
[A mild, soft smile manages to grace his lips.]
....I will.
[Another sigh, but its not so tired anymore. Something lighter is sitting there, like a bird in a window. A glimmer of light. Hope.]
I'll take care of you till the end. And then beyond that. You can't be rid of me. Not now. Not ever. You're mine.
[That smile silences every thought on his mind, wiping it clean and leaving nothing but the sight of Vergilius' happiness, fleeting as it is, to occupy it. This is the beautiful shining jewel he's been entrusted with, and guiding their joined hands to his lips, Lobelia kisses their wounds.
That smile clears the mess from his mind, his true feelings spilling freely past his lips.]
Je t'aime. Don't be so quick to give up on yourself, Vergilius. Nothing would break my heart more than that.
[There's always a path forward even if it must be carved out by their own hands. If Vergilius lacks faith in himself to traverse that path, he need only lean on Lobelia to continue forward. Life is meant to be lived with others, after all, and that's a lesson they'll both learn together.]
Nothing would make me happier than bearing your burdens alongside you. Don't be so quick to forget that, j'ai compris?
Edited (i'll have you know i'm a french expert) 2023-06-20 23:21 (UTC)
[Though he knows what he's referring to, here. This all feels strange. He's far too used to wallowing in his own grief. There was no one left to pull him out of it. Not even Lapis. He was drowning so long, he forgot the taste of air.]
[He's pulling their hands aside so he can shift forward, kiss him. He lets it linger, like a promise of its own]
Okay. [It feels strange, but okay. It feels like he shouldn't. But okay. Okay. It's going to be okay.] I won't. As long as you don't forget that I'll be your guide.
[He led him once to happiness. He'll lead him again. Lobelia found it after their death. It doesn't mean he can't get lost, still. Vergilius will pull him back, no matter what.]
[Incredible how such a gentle kiss can set every nerve in his body alight. It's no use trying not to shiver, exhaling a thin, gratified sigh, and even more pointless not to chase after Vergilius' lips for another. Lobelia's kiss is gentle and chaste, but it burns like a guttering flame fueled by his affection. No matter what, he won't stop loving Vergilius. Not even if that love is never returned. Not even then.
As if sensing that hesitation in Vergilius, Lobelia frames his face in his hands, a touch so soft and warm that it stands at odds with all the lives he's ended, all the blood he's spilled. Frightening as it is, he won't let Vergilius fight those fears alone. Not now, not ever again, so long as he draws breath.]
Je n'oublierai jamais. Wherever you lead, I will follow. There is no soul in this world that I trust more than you.
[How lonely must he have been, to crave this warmth? He had been denying it for so long that it feels like it should be snatched away from him as quickly as it came.]
[Lobelia holds him. He says those words. That he trusts him. And he believes it. They both have changed, like an irrevocable chemical reaction. Vergilius moves his head lightly in that grip to press dots of kisses over his fingertips, one by one. Right hand. Left hand. His wound on the ring finger. The tip of his tongue presses against it, a taste.]
I won't betray that trust. And I will heed your words, too. Even if I have every right to complain if you're being a fool. [Heh.] That's my right.
[Vergilius is the one responsible for making it clear to Lobelia that he was never alright with isolation and loneliness. He sequestered himself far away from society and lived as a hermit in order to live the lifestyle he thought would bring him happiness, killing more and more people and finding the high that followed to be more and more fleeting. This, however...
...Well, in a word, it's so pleasant as to be overwhelming. Lobelia's hands shiver and twitch with each kiss, little lightning bolts of elation coursing through his veins. Happiness. This is true happiness, isn't it? More and more, Vergilius is the one who assures Lobelia that he's finally found what he's been searching for all along.
Ah... And now he's the one left blushing, red right up to the tips of his ears. He'll make no attempt to hide it, instead taking Vergilius' face in his hands and guiding him into a litany of kissesβ his lips, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, the hollows beneath his eyes. Lobelia pays special attention to the scars that have always struck him as beautiful, his lips lingering on them.]
Heheh... I can't imagine you quitting your habit of complaining over the most mundane of things. That's part of your charme. You have no shortage of flaws, but I'll forgive you for being less than perfect.
[Lobelia is joking, but it's never easy to tell. Perhaps Vergilius understands him well enough to know the difference.]
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Can you live your life in fear of everything you'll lose? Life is finite, Vergilius. Eternity only awaits the damned. It's as they say: it's better to lose something you've loved than to have never loved at all.
[But none of that is news to Vergilius. Even so, Lobelia has a question for him.]
How long have you existed without truly living?
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[Yes.]
[Because he has.]
[Because even as he expected it, even as he was aware of it, it still happened. Knowing it would've happened didn't change a thing. He expected the other shoe to fall, and it did.]
[He doesn't meet the other's eyes, a bitter taste at the back of his throat.]
....I don't deserve to truly "live", Lobelia.
[In the end, the karma was just payment. He obtained happiness. But it was never meant to be.]
[Everything would be taken away from him in time.]
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It is easier to believe you deserve every bit of pain, isn't it? Somehow, you think that makes it easier to endure. After all, there is no purging the humanitΓ© from yourself.
[Carding his fingers through Vergilius' hair, Lobelia lightly tugs it, as if chiding the man.]
When someone you've come to love dies, you'll find your heart mourning for them regardless of whether you "deserved" to love them or not. I thought myself foolish, but even I know better than to deny myself the simple pleasure of loving another.
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[What a wretched, pathetic, despicable soul he is.]
[The fingertips move to tug through his hair, and he lets out a noise as if in protest. He's a beaten animal not even moving to lick at his own wounds. Let him be, let him be-]
Its not so simple. [He wishes it was. His voice cracks on his lips, like the sound from an old set of stairs.] I would be a hypocrite. The last person who could hold anyone close is me.
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What a predicament. Regardless, Lobelia remains undaunted, fingers slipping from his hair to brush along his cheek.]
Humans are hypocritical creatures by virtue of their very being. Moreover, you are a hypocrite. You may not want to hold others close to your heart, but refusing to acknowledge that you have does not make those feelings simply disappear.
Humans can't help but love one another. If it were not for love, there would be no loss.
[And the fact that Vergilius has lost so much speaks to how very human he isβ how he can't help but love and be loved in turn. He's right, isn't he? Lobelia won't hear any arguments to the contrary.]
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["Humans can't help but love one another."]
[Funny, how its coming from a man who made him so miserable for his own selfish ends before. Funny, how it comes from someone who ripped out his heart, killed him, and then died for...what, his sake?]
[His fingers curl momentarily. He's a stubborn old bull, he knows he is. You can lead him to water, can't make him drink.]
After everything I've done, its only right for me to cut myself off from that.
[Another argument. He's pitiful, he is. He's been in this cold darkness of penance for too long. Even with the children, he was there.]
[He would've been relieved if one of the children stabbed him in the back. That dream he had seen before with Lapis doing just that had been expected.]
It's only right. That's the price I have to pay.
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Lobelia knew nothing but emptiness while Vergilius knows better, and yet he refuses to see his boon for what it is. Yet he insists on punishing himself, toiling beneath the weight of his own sins. To call himself envious of having that option simply wouldn't be enough, a bit of that frustration spilling out in the way he sharply tugs on Vergilius' ear.]
Homme stupide. I've never met someone as brilliant and yet so foolish as you. Perhaps that is the source of my heartache? You're quite infuriating, you know!
[It takes a lot to dig under Lobelia's skin and prompt very real anger from him, but Vergilius manages so effortlessly. Love, hate, anger, grief... He should be thanking Vergilius for showing him these things, but right now, Lobelia can only seethe beneath the surface.]
You promised to try, non? To reach for happiness for the sake of those who draw their happiness from you. If this is your attempt at a trial run, you've failed miserably.
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[OW? He's making a face, that is his EAR. YOU BINCH.]
When did I promise that? [Now he's looking up at Lobelia, eyes flaring.] That's the point. Happiness for others. Not for myself.
[And something defeated sort of sits in his body, the tension abating as soon as it came. He listens to Lobelia's heart, warm and steady and strong. He had held it in his hands not too long ago. Even that, he didn't deserve, even if it felt so right at the time, in the heat of anger.]
...I've caused too much blood to flow.
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Non, non, non! We've discussed this! Insisting on being miserable all the time will only bring unhappiness to those who rely on you! If the gods can forgive insurmountable sins, then why can't man?
[Because man doesn't want to. When Lobelia considers the reasons why, the answers easily come to him.]
You're addicted to the pain, Vergilius. You claim not to be self-serving or hypocritical, but the only one served by your self-flagellation is you. Have you not realized this?
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[And sins cannot be washed away just by walking away from them, in his opinion. Why is his EGO a mantle of blood, a laurel of thorns? They're made to be worn to eternity, painful as they are.]
[The next part makes him actually lift his head up, incredulous.]
What? Addicted? [He's never been called this - sure, he's considered himself selfish, but for something like this?] Oh, pray tell, who else is going to bear the burden, then? You don't understand anything.
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[Tsk, tsk. Lobelia has never been intimidated by that ugly glare and today won't be the day he backs down from it. Exhaling his frustrations in a long, thin sigh, he brushes the backs of his fingers along Vergilius' scarred cheek and pulls on a practiced smile.]
I am, garΓ§on bΓͺte. Did I not promise to bear your burdens with you and bring you happiness? [Cheekily:] Until death do we part. You are a stubborn man, but I will break you down eventually. That, too, is a promise.
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...
[He's looking as stern as always, but the way he pushes his lips out almost seems like a pout, even in that tight, scarred face.]
You make it sound like we're really married or something.
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[Lobelia lifts his left hand and wiggles his fingers. Look at this nice legally binding wound on his ring finger! Unless...]
You're not going back on your word already, are you, Vergilius?
[Is Vergilius blushing again...? Such a rare treat. Lobelia doubts he'll ever tire of it.]
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[WHAT]
Um. No. I mean. [AGH] It's still not actual marriage, Lobelia.
[JUST SAYING!!!!!!!!!! OKAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]
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Lobelia sighs so loudly and dramatically that he practically shouts. Oh, the Hugh Manatee.........]
What is marriage if not a union between two people who care for one another? [DON'T YOU CARE ABOUT HIM, VERG? WON'T YOU EVER ADMIT THIS???] You're so cruel! I have feelings, you know!
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[His ears are beet red. What is haPPENING.]
Even if it's that, it's not... [He's letting out a very frustrated noise, burying his face against the other's chest LEavE HIM ALONE] Whatever.
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Ahhhh...! Vous Γͺtes si mignon!
[Mission Stay Calm: successfully failed.]
You have a choice here, Vergilius! Break your vows and crush my spirits into tiny pieces or remain true to your word and make us both happy. The choice is yours to make!
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[Ugh.]
[He's not even looking up, heaving a sigh.]
.......Hmmph. [He hates it here.] As much as I would like to crush your spirit into tiny pieces...
[As much as it would be easy to.]
....I won't.
[He couldn't go through with it. He realizes that. Lobelia's happiness....would he really want to add that to the list of things he's destroyed?]
[It's why he paused then, all that time ago, during their first tryst, and made Lobelia turn away from despair.]
[He can't do such a thing like that. He doesn't have it in him to it.]
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That's precisely why Lobelia has to protect it. That's why he will protect it, a warm palm settling atop Vergilius' hand to ruffle his hair. He doesn't mean to treat him like one might a child, but Vergilius had tried to soothe him in a similar fashion not that long ago, hadn't he? Right now, Lobelia can feel his heart beating some ways below his own, a sacred treasure he will never again defile.]
Merci.
[I love you doesn't follow, the words lodged in his throat. It's fine, it's fine.]
I've entrusted all of myself to you, so please take good care of me. In return, know that I will stop at nothing to do the same.
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[Please take good care of me. And that hair ruffle...it should be something to annoy him, but it doesn't. It doesn't at all.]
[Ah. Lobelia knows his soft spots too well. How can he resist a thing like that? Even someone like Lobelia, with his blood-stained past, responsible for the deaths of thousands, even his own parents...]
[Even something like that seems unable to stop him. Lobelia is not a child to protect in some tiny little corner, hidden away from the cruel world. He's quite different. But all the same, he can't abandon him, just like he never abandoned the idea of creating a better world for a man whose bloodstains and anger could outweigh his own.]
[I wanted to create a world where even you could live in peace.]
[....He raises his head, reaching with his left hand to grasp the other's, glancing at his handiwork and Lobelia's handiwork between entwined fingers.]
[A mild, soft smile manages to grace his lips.]
....I will.
[Another sigh, but its not so tired anymore. Something lighter is sitting there, like a bird in a window. A glimmer of light. Hope.]
I'll take care of you till the end. And then beyond that. You can't be rid of me. Not now. Not ever. You're mine.
[Unto hell.]
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That smile clears the mess from his mind, his true feelings spilling freely past his lips.]
Je t'aime. Don't be so quick to give up on yourself, Vergilius. Nothing would break my heart more than that.
[There's always a path forward even if it must be carved out by their own hands. If Vergilius lacks faith in himself to traverse that path, he need only lean on Lobelia to continue forward. Life is meant to be lived with others, after all, and that's a lesson they'll both learn together.]
Nothing would make me happier than bearing your burdens alongside you. Don't be so quick to forget that, j'ai compris?
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[Though he knows what he's referring to, here. This all feels strange. He's far too used to wallowing in his own grief. There was no one left to pull him out of it. Not even Lapis. He was drowning so long, he forgot the taste of air.]
[He's pulling their hands aside so he can shift forward, kiss him. He lets it linger, like a promise of its own]
Okay. [It feels strange, but okay. It feels like he shouldn't. But okay. Okay. It's going to be okay.] I won't. As long as you don't forget that I'll be your guide.
[He led him once to happiness. He'll lead him again. Lobelia found it after their death. It doesn't mean he can't get lost, still. Vergilius will pull him back, no matter what.]
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As if sensing that hesitation in Vergilius, Lobelia frames his face in his hands, a touch so soft and warm that it stands at odds with all the lives he's ended, all the blood he's spilled. Frightening as it is, he won't let Vergilius fight those fears alone. Not now, not ever again, so long as he draws breath.]
Je n'oublierai jamais. Wherever you lead, I will follow. There is no soul in this world that I trust more than you.
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[How lonely must he have been, to crave this warmth? He had been denying it for so long that it feels like it should be snatched away from him as quickly as it came.]
[Lobelia holds him. He says those words. That he trusts him. And he believes it. They both have changed, like an irrevocable chemical reaction. Vergilius moves his head lightly in that grip to press dots of kisses over his fingertips, one by one. Right hand. Left hand. His wound on the ring finger. The tip of his tongue presses against it, a taste.]
I won't betray that trust. And I will heed your words, too. Even if I have every right to complain if you're being a fool. [Heh.] That's my right.
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...Well, in a word, it's so pleasant as to be overwhelming. Lobelia's hands shiver and twitch with each kiss, little lightning bolts of elation coursing through his veins. Happiness. This is true happiness, isn't it? More and more, Vergilius is the one who assures Lobelia that he's finally found what he's been searching for all along.
Ah... And now he's the one left blushing, red right up to the tips of his ears. He'll make no attempt to hide it, instead taking Vergilius' face in his hands and guiding him into a litany of kissesβ his lips, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, the hollows beneath his eyes. Lobelia pays special attention to the scars that have always struck him as beautiful, his lips lingering on them.]
Heheh... I can't imagine you quitting your habit of complaining over the most mundane of things. That's part of your charme. You have no shortage of flaws, but I'll forgive you for being less than perfect.
[Lobelia is joking, but it's never easy to tell. Perhaps Vergilius understands him well enough to know the difference.]
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