His chest was still heaving as he closed the distance between himself and the borders of his home, sobs still tearing from his throat. Of all the feelings he expected, the creeping sense of regret was not one. He had already slowed when Eris was suddenly in his path, ready to turn back. Relief and agitation hit him in equal waves at the sight of her.
Zamael—
It came out choked, desperate, only half intended as an answer to her question. He collapsed, tears spilling over and soaking into his fur. Alarian tried again a few more times, tried to tell her something, but nothing came out. The grief and regret had lodged firmly in his throat; all he could think about was the fact that he needed to go back. He needed to find Zamael, and never let him leave again.
I ran away from him,
The words dripped with bitter regret, an emotion he didn't even try to mask. Let her hate him for it; he knew she would. How could she not? He was looking for me— over a year later. A year too late.
He wasn't paying attention to her, now. All he registered was the mixture of hurt and anger pulsing through his veins, tainting every thought. He just expects me to— to forget that I wasn't good enough the first time. Just because he decided I'm worth something now. And the worst part is—
Another sob cut through his words. I want to.
But I can't. I mean, I shouldn't— right?
Now he looked to his sister, gaze raw and questioning. He needed something, anything— anything to tell him where to go from here.
She offered little more than a single word: No. No— he couldn't let himself have this. No— he didn't deserve it. No— he could never be loved that way.
But he could. Some part of him was certain Zamael would still be out there, looking; that he would still want him. And perhaps he was the only one. Everyone around him was content to watch him crumble— that much had become obvious over the last month, as his weight dwindled and he neglected his own care and spiraled further into this hole. He had realized, slowly, that he didn't want to be here— that no one here would love him the way he wished they would.
And while he couldn't leave, maybe— maybe he deserved to bring a piece of his own happiness here. He blinked in the face of Eris' no, and slowly shook his head. But what if— what if it made everything better? What if I could stop being... broken?
It slipped from him as a whisper, almost a plea. Maybe Zamael could make him whole again.
He was frozen for several beats after she turned, unable to answer; unwilling to answer. Because you don't want to, his mind murmured for him. As far as he knew, that was the truth.
Then it registered— she was leaving. She was abandoning him too. He had finally done it, as he'd known he would— he'd driven everyone away, again. Without thinking, he darted after her, limbs somehow both numb and aching with the effort. He had already run so far, though. Her lead only grew, until finally even her scent was beginning to grow weaker, and he didn't know where he was anymore.
His eyes were too blurred with tears to see, so he didn't even try. When he finally accepted he'd lost her, he could only collapse where he was. It was hours before he moved again.