[When Hayame releases him, lets him fall that brief distance back to earth, Liem's grip on her arms only tightens. Despite the warmth of the evening and the thickness of his layers, discord keeps him desperately cold as his fingers grasp her bare skin. If he could, if she would let him, he would curl himself around her like a cat finding a sunny patch of carpet, and lose himself for even just a moment in breathing the familiar scent of her: the scent of someone he's known for longer than he's been in this world.]
It is not belief.
[His gloved hands travel down her arms to her clenched fists, curling bare fingertips around them, worming them in to insinuate them into her grip. He did not leave Meridian because he was tired; but he is tired now, of looking at the people in his life and seeing them hurting, seeing that he has been the one to hurt them, and accepting that it has to be that way.]
I don't know whether Meridian is right, or whether Zenith is, or whether both of them are misleading us completely. None of us know what we will leave this place to find, in the end. I want to find out, but I can't keep making my decisions based on supposition. It will only cause me grief.
[Isn't that what happened when he'd let Zenith sway him? He had them persuade him that if they were truly right, then his duty should lead him there. But he still did not know. None of them did, and he suspects that none of them will, unless they are willing to tear apart the very premise of their place here in looking. And until that happens, and he still doesn't know, he has to make a choice, just as he had when he'd first joined Meridian.
But this time, if he is going to make a choice based solely on his own wants and his own convictions, he may as well go all the way.]
This is my bargain with you. I will stay true to Meridian, let it be my hope and my salvation — as long as it is yours, and Set's, and that of everyone else who stands at my side.
no subject
It is not belief.
[His gloved hands travel down her arms to her clenched fists, curling bare fingertips around them, worming them in to insinuate them into her grip. He did not leave Meridian because he was tired; but he is tired now, of looking at the people in his life and seeing them hurting, seeing that he has been the one to hurt them, and accepting that it has to be that way.]
I don't know whether Meridian is right, or whether Zenith is, or whether both of them are misleading us completely. None of us know what we will leave this place to find, in the end. I want to find out, but I can't keep making my decisions based on supposition. It will only cause me grief.
[Isn't that what happened when he'd let Zenith sway him? He had them persuade him that if they were truly right, then his duty should lead him there. But he still did not know. None of them did, and he suspects that none of them will, unless they are willing to tear apart the very premise of their place here in looking. And until that happens, and he still doesn't know, he has to make a choice, just as he had when he'd first joined Meridian.
But this time, if he is going to make a choice based solely on his own wants and his own convictions, he may as well go all the way.]
This is my bargain with you. I will stay true to Meridian, let it be my hope and my salvation — as long as it is yours, and Set's, and that of everyone else who stands at my side.