[Elliot still wears the ring Sesa gave him; he hasn't taken it off, save to shower or when he's doing work on the machinery. It's being worn now, even, sticking out between their fingers where they intertwine.]
I hardly deserve your saccharine words, Sesa.
[He has never deserved Sesa, yet he refuses to let go. He'll sink his claws in as deep as he possibly can to make sure the Vouivre never leaves his side. The obsession runs deep, see, and it's impossible for him to ignore. It says to hold and harbour and claim. Sesa is his, has always been his, and Elliot refuses to imagine a world where their hands aren't intertwined over the vast bridge that separates their two paths.
He bonks their foreheads together, closing his eyes.]
If this is love, then I, too, must love you. What else could it be?
no subject
I hardly deserve your saccharine words, Sesa.
[He has never deserved Sesa, yet he refuses to let go. He'll sink his claws in as deep as he possibly can to make sure the Vouivre never leaves his side. The obsession runs deep, see, and it's impossible for him to ignore. It says to hold and harbour and claim. Sesa is his, has always been his, and Elliot refuses to imagine a world where their hands aren't intertwined over the vast bridge that separates their two paths.
He bonks their foreheads together, closing his eyes.]
If this is love, then I, too, must love you. What else could it be?