It's tired and old and there's no bitterness left, just quiet acceptance. There'd been no space for it to begin with. Spectres belonged to the world: that was the sacrifice for the political power they wielded. There was very little room for selfishness, very little room to squeeze in mortal wants and needs when you shouldered the maintenance of peace for the Council.
It was one thing to have casual lovers that you hooked up with a couple times a year from port to port. Fleeting relations that meant nothing and wouldn't be missed if lost. That couldn't be turned against you.
But Saren...
"Everything that I am today, he helped me realize."
Nihlus' voice is quiet, admissions he's not ready to make and not sure he should be making, lining the edges of his voice with lead.
"He is... my oldest friend. My confidant and advisor, my mentor. He has saved me a thousand times over, in more ways than even he realizes. We've known each other for nearly a decade." Running his fingers over the seams of his mech arm, he swallows before continuing. "I won't deny that he is important to me."
A sharp edged voice comes back to him, black eyes under flickering lights, scarred face lit by orange circuitry. Nihlus squeezes his eyes shut against the memory but-
Because you think you owe him.
... Is that it, then?
Months straining everything he has with Shepard because he couldn't see beyond his own spirits-damned cowl. Months pushing everything aside, trying to make things up to Saren, despite the fact it was Saren who'd distanced himself first all those years ago. Trying to forgive despite the freshly reopened wounds- despite the fact that Saren had been the one to murder him.
Because he thinks he owes him.
Because he’s too terrified to let go.
Because... he didn’t want Saren to leave again.
"I don't." He pauses, voice dropping to a whisper, quiet fears slipping out into his subvocals despite his best attempts to muffle them. "I don't want want to lose him."
What was he doing? What was he trying to do? Why was this so hard? It felt like he was trying to hold onto the two opposing weights hanging over a void, afraid to lose everything. Slowly losing it all anyways.
Don’t leave me.
Mindful of his leg, Nihlus slowly shifts onto his chest before opening his eyes again, sighing a small shuddering sigh.
Please. Don’t leave me.
"I don't want to lose you either." Slowly, he reaches out towards her, palm up, hand open. "This is our relationship. I love you. Unless you say so, unless you agree to it, he's not getting me. He's been my friend for ten years. Not my boyfriend."
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It's tired and old and there's no bitterness left, just quiet acceptance. There'd been no space for it to begin with. Spectres belonged to the world: that was the sacrifice for the political power they wielded. There was very little room for selfishness, very little room to squeeze in mortal wants and needs when you shouldered the maintenance of peace for the Council.
It was one thing to have casual lovers that you hooked up with a couple times a year from port to port. Fleeting relations that meant nothing and wouldn't be missed if lost. That couldn't be turned against you.
But Saren...
"Everything that I am today, he helped me realize."
Nihlus' voice is quiet, admissions he's not ready to make and not sure he should be making, lining the edges of his voice with lead.
"He is... my oldest friend. My confidant and advisor, my mentor. He has saved me a thousand times over, in more ways than even he realizes. We've known each other for nearly a decade." Running his fingers over the seams of his mech arm, he swallows before continuing. "I won't deny that he is important to me."
A sharp edged voice comes back to him, black eyes under flickering lights, scarred face lit by orange circuitry. Nihlus squeezes his eyes shut against the memory but-
Because you think you owe him.
... Is that it, then?
Months straining everything he has with Shepard because he couldn't see beyond his own spirits-damned cowl. Months pushing everything aside, trying to make things up to Saren, despite the fact it was Saren who'd distanced himself first all those years ago. Trying to forgive despite the freshly reopened wounds- despite the fact that Saren had been the one to murder him.
Because he thinks he owes him.
Because he’s too terrified to let go.
Because... he didn’t want Saren to leave again.
"I don't." He pauses, voice dropping to a whisper, quiet fears slipping out into his subvocals despite his best attempts to muffle them. "I don't want want to lose him."
What was he doing? What was he trying to do? Why was this so hard? It felt like he was trying to hold onto the two opposing weights hanging over a void, afraid to lose everything. Slowly losing it all anyways.
Don’t leave me.
Mindful of his leg, Nihlus slowly shifts onto his chest before opening his eyes again, sighing a small shuddering sigh.
Please. Don’t leave me.
"I don't want to lose you either." Slowly, he reaches out towards her, palm up, hand open. "This is our relationship. I love you. Unless you say so, unless you agree to it, he's not getting me. He's been my friend for ten years. Not my boyfriend."