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Summary
“Alatus,” Barbatos mumbled. “Do you love me?”
The yaksha was silent. If he were to deny the question after affirming it so many times, perhaps Barbatos’ worries would melt away. They wouldn’t fight with themselves to understand the concept of love or desire. They wouldn’t be forced with looking for their true sense of self, nor would they struggle to give the one thing they were unsure they could give away.
“I do.”
Of course he did.
He took his beloved’s hand, kissing it faintly.
“There is not a day I do not think of you. Miss you. Need you.”
He now kissed their inner wrist.
“You are my air. My light.”
Their eyes locked. He glanced away, ears tipped red.
“That is… what you wished to hear?”
It wasn’t.