[The man that I love. Dion is not so wrapped in the moment that he misses those words. They hit him hard, a levinbolt straight to the chest. The feeling sizzles out to the very tips of his fingers and his toes, almost painful. All at once, Dion feels both wounded and winded.
He must have misheard. Or perhaps it was an accident, words not meant to be said. Dion tries to draw himself back together. He's grown adept at picking up the pieces and quickly reassembling them.
The moment he tries, though, Joshua doubles down. There was no mistake. He loves Dion. Despite his flaws, his atrocities, his misgivings, this man of resplendent warmth has chosen Dion. He shouldn't be so surprised, considering they'd only just chosen to commit themselves to one another, but courting was far less than... this.
He searches his mind, trying to remember the last time he'd heard such words. He'd fought tooth and nail to wrench them from his father's lips, but he can't recall such a time. It would have been before Olivier, perhaps even before Anabella. Or had they ever come at all?
He's been silent for far too long, and knows that it will only concern Joshua all the more. He has to assuage his doubts, to explain that everything is fine, please don't worry. But when he opens his mouth, something wedges itself in his throat. Worse still, he feels a horrific prickling within his eyes.
He doesn't understand. He presses his mouth closed once more, mirroring the way his eyes slip shut. Once again, he tries to reassemble those pieces. When he tries again, the lids of his eyes still firmly squeezed closed, he can only manage a whisper.]
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He must have misheard. Or perhaps it was an accident, words not meant to be said. Dion tries to draw himself back together. He's grown adept at picking up the pieces and quickly reassembling them.
The moment he tries, though, Joshua doubles down. There was no mistake. He loves Dion. Despite his flaws, his atrocities, his misgivings, this man of resplendent warmth has chosen Dion. He shouldn't be so surprised, considering they'd only just chosen to commit themselves to one another, but courting was far less than... this.
He searches his mind, trying to remember the last time he'd heard such words. He'd fought tooth and nail to wrench them from his father's lips, but he can't recall such a time. It would have been before Olivier, perhaps even before Anabella. Or had they ever come at all?
He's been silent for far too long, and knows that it will only concern Joshua all the more. He has to assuage his doubts, to explain that everything is fine, please don't worry. But when he opens his mouth, something wedges itself in his throat. Worse still, he feels a horrific prickling within his eyes.
He doesn't understand. He presses his mouth closed once more, mirroring the way his eyes slip shut. Once again, he tries to reassemble those pieces. When he tries again, the lids of his eyes still firmly squeezed closed, he can only manage a whisper.]
Thank you.