[ Faith โ and its twin, devotion โ will always occupy Gale, even as he resolves to step away from the church. No, toward Astarion. The distinction matters. These human, earthly trifles matter. ]
On the subject of coke, I would think that advisable, regardless. [ gently, ] But this neednโt have to do with me for it to matter, Armand.
[ For all their distance and disagreements, Armand holds a place in his heart. It isnโt the same spot now as it was then, with his nervous, burgeoning desire at war with his unease over opening his marriage (as if it could ever be closed, when Parisa wished for no such thing). He knows that Armand helped him see things differently. Made him brave enough to try, at least. And helped unspool thoughts he hadnโt dared voice aloud. The indelible impact of intimacy, of companionship, remains.
Gale rises to his feet to join Armand on the couch, one hand still held in his two. He tips his head back, expression neutral, gaze fixed and quietly assessing. ]
Indulge my curiosity. [ Spoken with an entreating softness, as though Armand will be doing him a favour. ] Did you get the impression she wanted something?
[ That softness, Armand knows, can be as disarming as a knife to the ribs. He doesn't underestimate it, as much as he wants to lean into it, to burden Gale with all of his problems. But he can't, not any more -- not with so much distance and Parisa between them, as she should always have been. So he just looks at him, fondly, sadly. ]
I felt that she.. wanted to hurt me. To get revenge of some kind. I'm not sure why, she didn't say so, but -- [ He touches two fingertips to his chest, above his heart. ] I could feel it here. That I'd done something terrible.
[ He sighs, and looks down at their joined hands. He moves his thumb a little, stroking Gale's skin in a small gesture of gratitude. ]
She was.. it was as if she was still burning. Turning into ashes.
no subject
On the subject of coke, I would think that advisable, regardless. [ gently, ] But this neednโt have to do with me for it to matter, Armand.
[ For all their distance and disagreements, Armand holds a place in his heart. It isnโt the same spot now as it was then, with his nervous, burgeoning desire at war with his unease over opening his marriage (as if it could ever be closed, when Parisa wished for no such thing). He knows that Armand helped him see things differently. Made him brave enough to try, at least. And helped unspool thoughts he hadnโt dared voice aloud. The indelible impact of intimacy, of companionship, remains.
Gale rises to his feet to join Armand on the couch, one hand still held in his two. He tips his head back, expression neutral, gaze fixed and quietly assessing. ]
Indulge my curiosity. [ Spoken with an entreating softness, as though Armand will be doing him a favour. ] Did you get the impression she wanted something?
no subject
I felt that she.. wanted to hurt me. To get revenge of some kind. I'm not sure why, she didn't say so, but -- [ He touches two fingertips to his chest, above his heart. ] I could feel it here. That I'd done something terrible.
[ He sighs, and looks down at their joined hands. He moves his thumb a little, stroking Gale's skin in a small gesture of gratitude. ]
She was.. it was as if she was still burning. Turning into ashes.