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    Summary

    "“Are you telling me, Daeron,” Aerion said, voice lilting up in an amused manner, “that you have never found a girl attractive?”

    Daeron’s face contorted as he bit his lip. What was there to feel?

    “Not really,” he said at last. “Do you?”"

    On a walk with Aerion, Daeron comes to a realization about himself: He does not find people attractive, and the very thought of sex makes him feel sick. The rumor that he frequents brothels is therefore that much crueler. Accepting himself would've been hard enough, even without the whispers claiming that he is the opposite of who he really is.

    (Or, the asexual Daeron fic I've been meaning to write. Daeron's journey to self-acceptance would've been so much easier if Aerion wasn't such an awful person)

    Language:
    English
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