[ midnight's eyelashes cast themselves into the sea of his eyes. they are pink, much like the reflection of a fontainian dawn. kaveh has never seen the fontainian dawn. he has never been to fontaine. but in his memories, he knows that pink. he has imagined it a hundred times, and thousand times, what it must look like reflected in the eyes of his mother. that is what it means, kaveh thinks, to love.

does it hurt, to love me - kaveh nearly asks. it is an unbearably cruel question. it is an unbearably presumptuous question. it is an unbearably senseless question. kaveh, who still cannot bear it, says, instead: ]

You must be damaged beyond belief, then. It must have dented you from the inside out, to form the shape of you that I see today. [ kaveh's hand curves through midnight's hair. gently, he leans down, to press a kiss to the crown of his head.

kaveh can leave it at that. he should leave it at that. nobody ought to have to deal with the burden that is knowing kaveh. but this is midnight, who held his hand past the grief in their pocket. this is midnight, who bowed his head in the mall. this is midnight, who pushed kaveh to save alhaitham. this is midnight. midnight has always deserved to know, come what may.

kaveh says, after a long silence: ] I'm driven by guilt, you know. You must know by now.