Shadewood Drunk Nights are more fun than Sober Ones

“If you would have left, guilt would have held me for a very long time.” It was a somber admittance, a pained one that he wouldn’t have been able to hold in whether he wanted to be collected, or not. “But I am happy for you. I truly am. And I can sincerely try to find you a worthy...husband.” But something in him seethed at this notion, as though he were giving up a prize that was meant for him, handing over a piece of himself to someone who wouldn’t treat it the way it deserved. It burned the glacier of his heart, and the meltwater near drowned his sanity right then and there. But he was brave enough to hold his breath until it drained away. 

“You have tendencies that she does not- it is a compliment. You both compliment each other, in such contrasting ways.” He didn’t know if it was a clear explaination or not, but once her verdant jewels slid back to her food she had made for him, he used it as an example. “Your food- Gwen has never done this for me. She hadn’t ever made me a plate, or asked me how I was. We hunt together, and simply assume the other is fine unless it is obvious. It seems as though I gravitate to you when I hunger, and to her when I need exercise.” Was this too much?