[ you, as well goes unspoken. can't prove a point just standing there though. so phainon emulates mydeimos' earlier motions, taking those few steps back and then some. he feels it wane until he's hollowed out — save for the one ambition that prevents revenge from filling him whole with a crazed hatred unwilling to retreat. alongside it: a longing to remain in mydeimos' company regardless of how his own presence may lack purpose. that's the anomaly, and he's aware of it, too: it's not like they need to constantly be around the other, yearning for that next time while counting down the days until they'll encounter one another again. ]

Be that as it may, [ retracing his steps, edging closer to mydeimos, he settles for that empty spot right next to the other man as the onslaught of that unexplainable comfort finds a home within him again. he gives it a second or two, allowing himself to adjust, waiting for it to fade knowing that it likely won't. ]

... you are the root of it all for me as well. But, it's hardly any different from what it was like before. [ — before strife returned to castrum kremnos, dedicating the rest of his immortal life to their flame-chase journey, that is. ] It's just strangely amplified, this trust I already have in you.

[ except — it's more than just trust. but if phainon is forced to give it a name, this is the easier one. ]