[ Though Liem does not seek him, as if they are two well-fitted puzzle pieces, Set yields nothing to the space between them. He is the one who curls into Liem's stiff posture, who drapes himself across the other man's space like liquid. Who finds the shape of Liem's hand, and molds his own to it. Light, seeking to press flickering pacification upon his Discord, even though they are useless to one another. He can press it down for the moment, to give Liem the room to breathe and think.

Especially, because.

Because.

( Perhaps Liem will feel the way Set's body jolts against him, because they are so close. Unfortunately close, all of a sudden, as muscle bunches and flinches and Set's expression oh-so-briefly becomes pale, distant. Haunted, hovering in the corner of Liem's vision, before he dips it and hides himself behind that vast curtain of red.

He wanted to make me his.

If he was not in the presence of another, and forcing resistance into every inch of himself, he would go to retch in the corner of the Church. ) His hand tightens, reflexive, around Liem's. ]

That is terrible. [ A fate worse than death, to him. ] Liem, that is a terrible experience. To not be able to befriend anyone, to be among others — for fear that he would then know where to strike? What a lonely life.

[ It is one he knows, too. Osiris hated anyone who drew close to Set. Who could have drawn his eye or attention, and he had slaughtered a man for the 'crime' of seeing Set's face. Of laying eyes upon him, even by accident. He knows it. He's also certain he is incapable of hiding that from Liem, in this moment. So, he resigns himself to saying it. ]

— I am sorry, that he haunts you even here. The reach of someone like that is infinite, I fear. Your heart carries him, and will until you are able to kill his specter entirely.