( One of the few times he's tried to fix something was Balthazar's death, and that had ended with Balthazar turning from him. Balthazar did not want it fixed. He did not want to return.

But Yoru... at least, is listening.

He's quiet, for a time. )

... I don't want to let you turn to ash in my hands. More than your eyes, or your voice, or the cut of your teeth, it's you I'd miss, most of all.

( He understands you want to go, but he can't let go, so long as there's still something to hold onto. )

So let's begin again. Let's come to know each other as Hwylryn, and Yoru. And then...

( He inhales, tears in his eyes, feeling like he's still letting go of something, even if he isn't sure what, and it hurts him. He holds his breath, and swallows, and he has himself proceed: )

... And then... I want... to find a name for us that's only for us. Not a name you give anyone else - not a name I give anyone else. ( Would that he knew dearer terms for friends. ) I want to come to know a part of you that only Hwylryn can know. And I want you to come to find a part of me that only Yoru can know. And... I want us to take our time.

( He wants Yoru to last a long, long time.

In some sense, they had something like this, but - he doesn't know. It got messy, along the way. Yoru is right; it became something he had to barter with, as his relationships became more complicated, in depth, expanding - and then, suddenly and by his own hand, contracting into nothing.

Hwylryn isn't learned at all in having more than one vibrant connection at a time, and he's still learning, even now.

But he feels he doesn't have the time to learn, either. He feels like Yoru may as well disappear into the rain if he can't find the right words. )

... Please.