& all we are is skin and bone, trained to get along
"Not the point." Remi corrected with a crooked smile, wondering where Loren had picked up such a habit and if it was meant to indicate the sort of uncertainty that it seems to portray.
Waiting for the summoner to speak felt like it bordered on an eternity, though the alchemist thought he knew what it was he was likely to hear. I'm in love with him, Loren would say. He'd look up with that small and private smile, the one that Remi had once fallen so hard for, and then Loren would shrug slightly as if it all couldn't be helped. And Remi would nod, because there was nothing else to do, and it was just the way of things.
It ah, it wasn't just Abasi.
Remi stared back at Loren, though for a moment he didn't appear to have comprehended what the summoner had said. And indeed all the alchemist could hear was a slight ringing in his ears as the world ground to an icy halt. As the story unfolded Remi's lashes fluttered over eyes growing ever more vacant with silent shock. Loren might have thought the more surprising part was the threesome—and indeed that was a shock to Remi's mental picture of the Launceleyn—but that wasn't what caused his breath to catch and his stomach to clench.
Scrunching the bridge of his nose in an adorably innocent gesture as if the information was like so much dust tickling his sinuses, Remi looked up at the ceiling as if he might somehow sneeze it out. He didn't of course, and instead raised his hand to rub absently and unhappily beneath the collar of his shirt somewhere just above his heart. This was the second time now that Loren had willfully left Remi behind; once physically and now emotionally. Biting the inside of his cheek as he blinked up at the ceiling, the alchemist tried to wade through the tangled thoughts pulling at him, but found himself tripping over the same ones over and over again.
Perhaps it was the same selfishness that Loren accused him of, or the self-righteousness that Jigano had, that made Remi suddenly feel frozen to the bone. But never once had he asked for divine intervention in 'getting over' Loren. There was something about love, real love anyways, that made the grieving process seem important somehow. Necessary. Right. But just as Sam had decided grieving over Remi was too much work, too painful, so too had Loren.
Did I really mean so little? He wanted to ask, though quickly realized he didn't deserve nor want the answer to that. So instead he just said, "Ahh.." And swallowed down a painful tangle of emotions. Dropping his eyes back to the summoner, Remi flashed him a brief smile, his expression one of soft anguish. "Saying thank you for that seems a bit...misplaced. But I appreciate knowing just the same." Pressing a closed fist between his eyes and letting them close, Remi sighed. "Phoebe is going to kill you when she finds out."
Waiting for the summoner to speak felt like it bordered on an eternity, though the alchemist thought he knew what it was he was likely to hear. I'm in love with him, Loren would say. He'd look up with that small and private smile, the one that Remi had once fallen so hard for, and then Loren would shrug slightly as if it all couldn't be helped. And Remi would nod, because there was nothing else to do, and it was just the way of things.
It ah, it wasn't just Abasi.
Remi stared back at Loren, though for a moment he didn't appear to have comprehended what the summoner had said. And indeed all the alchemist could hear was a slight ringing in his ears as the world ground to an icy halt. As the story unfolded Remi's lashes fluttered over eyes growing ever more vacant with silent shock. Loren might have thought the more surprising part was the threesome—and indeed that was a shock to Remi's mental picture of the Launceleyn—but that wasn't what caused his breath to catch and his stomach to clench.
Scrunching the bridge of his nose in an adorably innocent gesture as if the information was like so much dust tickling his sinuses, Remi looked up at the ceiling as if he might somehow sneeze it out. He didn't of course, and instead raised his hand to rub absently and unhappily beneath the collar of his shirt somewhere just above his heart. This was the second time now that Loren had willfully left Remi behind; once physically and now emotionally. Biting the inside of his cheek as he blinked up at the ceiling, the alchemist tried to wade through the tangled thoughts pulling at him, but found himself tripping over the same ones over and over again.
Perhaps it was the same selfishness that Loren accused him of, or the self-righteousness that Jigano had, that made Remi suddenly feel frozen to the bone. But never once had he asked for divine intervention in 'getting over' Loren. There was something about love, real love anyways, that made the grieving process seem important somehow. Necessary. Right. But just as Sam had decided grieving over Remi was too much work, too painful, so too had Loren.
Did I really mean so little? He wanted to ask, though quickly realized he didn't deserve nor want the answer to that. So instead he just said, "Ahh.." And swallowed down a painful tangle of emotions. Dropping his eyes back to the summoner, Remi flashed him a brief smile, his expression one of soft anguish. "Saying thank you for that seems a bit...misplaced. But I appreciate knowing just the same." Pressing a closed fist between his eyes and letting them close, Remi sighed. "Phoebe is going to kill you when she finds out."
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
