The Bracken Woods it's better to burn than to fade away

they do not see him and so he is made a witness, pulled closer as if by some unseen force, the tides maybe, the moon itself drawing him step by step until he can make out snatches of their words. sorry and someone and fuckup. a snort leaves him involuntarily, the quiet, scornful sound echoing oddly loud against his eardrums. there is still a way for him to leave before they notice him. he can go back to bracken sanctuary and rest easy in the knowledge that hey, alarian isn't a cheater (if there's even anything between them to "cheat" on). he's just... got a lot of men in his life. and who's delight to judge? he's still half hung up on the idealized vision of mato he carries on him like a locket from a long lost lover. and he's got queenie and the kids. 

still he can't help  but look at the other boy and think: have you seen him drenched in the blood of his brother, have you seen what he is capable of, did you look him in his ruined eyes and think even this is not enough to keep me from you?

there won't be a "go home and pretend he didn't see this." it's just not delight's style. with an apologetic cough, the epicene announces his presence -- no words, just a slow, uncertain look between the two of them, as if to say, well, what now?