"I never hated you."
Rameses didn't respond at first. His arms tightening around him as he watched the gold light flicker across his sleeping face.
He didn't need to acknowledge it, he already knew.
If he had truly believed those words: 'I wish you were dead. I hate you.'
Then Rameses would have begged for that death. But he had seen the way his soul light had darkened. It was the same way he saw it dim and flicker every time he was in pain.
He knew it wasn't hatred. He already knew how he felt. He saw that too.
The way the gold edges would shine brighter each and every time that Rameses touched him.
And for now, that was enough. It was enough for him to know.
And the little he gave him back was enough for him to live with for as long as he could hold him.
He would rather have this, he would rather take a small, inconsequential piece of happiness than to cross the line and lose it all.
It was already more than he deserved.
