Bramblepoint The shape of brat pop to come

He listened in silence as Lasher tried to explain his feelings, now and then. It stung when he was reminded that Lasher had truly hated him, once, although the feeling quickly passed. Peregrine nodded to indicate that he had truly accepted the apology, his body stilling at the confession of Lasher's undying love for him. He wasn't quite sure what to do with that, if anything was even expected from him.

He wasn't entirely sure he could say the same. He had long since ceased missing Lasher and while he didn't hate him and regarded him with the tentative fondness of reborn friendship now, Peregrine didn't feel he could say his feelings were strong enough to be called love any longer. Quite frankly, he wasn't certain he wanted to rebuild toward that, either. He wondered if that's what Lasher wanted.

"Like I said," he began after a lengthy, contemplative pause, "I'm happy to have you as part of my life. But I'm not sure what you're hoping for here," he admitted, his jade eyes honest as he looked into Lasher's. "Do you?" he had to wonder.