[Anymore, hm. Yet another thing there's little time to examine. Truly, altogether, there's...actually quite a lot all around, here. Many things that probably need unpacking and probably never will be. But oh, here that inexperience dwelling as the other side of Caelus's strange coin of duality rises to surface once more, brief as it might be. Luocha stilled again when the boy's head made brief proper contact with his shoulder, but a slight sigh pressed out at the mention of the death toll. Price exacted that it was--]
Sacrifice is not a cost learned overnight, after all. One either starts small, or unwillingly large, and then one familiarizes with the weight over time... [And maybe it gets a little easier, too, when you're already walking around with little left to stomach much of anything. With nothing but that empty thing in the heart that never fills, ever aches, until you hardly feel anything but exhausted anymore. ...Not to mention that the Luofu was not his first stop,] You may yet gain such experience for yourself, whether you want to or not, as all living things eventually do in this world. ...Regardless, I will not apologize, for that or for your impressions in earlier times.
[Even if it's regrettable. Exceedingly regrettable. A consequence, in the end, of a mask a little too well-worn--a mask that may even have some genuine components, in some ways. It should have been just a means to duck notice and overt suspicion, and yet...for all Luocha's best efforts to distance himself from the majority of encounters upon the Luofu, it seems, he still just wasn't quite successful enough to avoid this one. It's...such a strangeness, to hear it so plainly, that Caelus liked him so. Even before the sex. Perhaps would have continued to even without any sex at all, if they had indeed done nothing but talk.
At least it's past-tense, that same detached branch of thought remarks distantly. Just as well. Ideally it stays that way, and if this meeting here will serve to sever whatever's left entirely, then perhaps there will be at least some sort of beneficial result here. Because it never should have reached such a point that Caelus's voice would now grow hoarse with the honesty, and his eyes--
--Yes, finally a proper look at his eyes, when Caelus turns at last, weight sliding over the seat and practically into his lap. The conflicted torture couldn't be clearer in them, which--is not a sight that Luocha had expected to see. A regrettable thing in its own right. Enough so that the odd twinge Luocha finds himself feeling, for just a second, can't be entirely attributed to the strange way the Stellaron's thrall is already clearly overtaking those eyes too, driving motion at last. (Though that's obvious too. An end to the restraint, now, tenuous as it had obviously already been...)
This is going to be unpleasant. ...So Luocha nearly hopes. It would be easier, if it were completely unpleasant. Straightforward violent torture truly would be better, because otherwise, if it's not, it'll be--well, there's no use in dread at this point. Either way, quite objectively, this is simply another price being paid--something seized which must now be repaid. The fact it still places such conflict upon Caelus is telling in itself. But the hunger of the Stellaron, exacerbated in this way, will likely be closing the gap regardless--
Hands press him back against the chair, press out Luocha's breath sharply in turn; the buttons on his high collar are twisted apart, but his shoulders remain square and his expression remains controlled, save for the tight frown settling upon it now. (Save for how, unseen, his hands have curled into fruitless fists against the bindings restricting them to the back of the chair.)]
...I see. Very well. [Breathless, but still measured. Some semblance of something placid, despite everything. Caelus will have to put active effort into drawing out anything more; Luocha may not be able to do anything else, but at least there is this last form of difficulty, something demanding work. Green eyes lock unwavering with that unnatural molten gold.] And what is it that you want?
[Is there something that you want, right now? Maybe the soft cadence is familiar, as all of this is maybe a bit too familiar in the moment--a chair, a straddled lap. Despite how extremely different things are now. There's some sort of irony here...it would truly be very funny, even. If either of them were in any sort of laughing mood about it.]
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Sacrifice is not a cost learned overnight, after all. One either starts small, or unwillingly large, and then one familiarizes with the weight over time... [And maybe it gets a little easier, too, when you're already walking around with little left to stomach much of anything. With nothing but that empty thing in the heart that never fills, ever aches, until you hardly feel anything but exhausted anymore. ...Not to mention that the Luofu was not his first stop,] You may yet gain such experience for yourself, whether you want to or not, as all living things eventually do in this world. ...Regardless, I will not apologize, for that or for your impressions in earlier times.
[Even if it's regrettable. Exceedingly regrettable. A consequence, in the end, of a mask a little too well-worn--a mask that may even have some genuine components, in some ways. It should have been just a means to duck notice and overt suspicion, and yet...for all Luocha's best efforts to distance himself from the majority of encounters upon the Luofu, it seems, he still just wasn't quite successful enough to avoid this one. It's...such a strangeness, to hear it so plainly, that Caelus liked him so. Even before the sex. Perhaps would have continued to even without any sex at all, if they had indeed done nothing but talk.
At least it's past-tense, that same detached branch of thought remarks distantly. Just as well. Ideally it stays that way, and if this meeting here will serve to sever whatever's left entirely, then perhaps there will be at least some sort of beneficial result here. Because it never should have reached such a point that Caelus's voice would now grow hoarse with the honesty, and his eyes--
--Yes, finally a proper look at his eyes, when Caelus turns at last, weight sliding over the seat and practically into his lap. The conflicted torture couldn't be clearer in them, which--is not a sight that Luocha had expected to see. A regrettable thing in its own right. Enough so that the odd twinge Luocha finds himself feeling, for just a second, can't be entirely attributed to the strange way the Stellaron's thrall is already clearly overtaking those eyes too, driving motion at last. (Though that's obvious too. An end to the restraint, now, tenuous as it had obviously already been...)
This is going to be unpleasant. ...So Luocha nearly hopes. It would be easier, if it were completely unpleasant. Straightforward violent torture truly would be better, because otherwise, if it's not, it'll be--well, there's no use in dread at this point. Either way, quite objectively, this is simply another price being paid--something seized which must now be repaid. The fact it still places such conflict upon Caelus is telling in itself. But the hunger of the Stellaron, exacerbated in this way, will likely be closing the gap regardless--
Hands press him back against the chair, press out Luocha's breath sharply in turn; the buttons on his high collar are twisted apart, but his shoulders remain square and his expression remains controlled, save for the tight frown settling upon it now. (Save for how, unseen, his hands have curled into fruitless fists against the bindings restricting them to the back of the chair.)]
...I see. Very well. [Breathless, but still measured. Some semblance of something placid, despite everything. Caelus will have to put active effort into drawing out anything more; Luocha may not be able to do anything else, but at least there is this last form of difficulty, something demanding work. Green eyes lock unwavering with that unnatural molten gold.] And what is it that you want?
[Is there something that you want, right now? Maybe the soft cadence is familiar, as all of this is maybe a bit too familiar in the moment--a chair, a straddled lap. Despite how extremely different things are now. There's some sort of irony here...it would truly be very funny, even. If either of them were in any sort of laughing mood about it.]