Well you can say no. And I'll do what I can to respect it if you do but... I'm not much without the people in this house.
[He looks down at his hands. It's not a very comfortable thing to admit that, but how unfair would it be for him to disguise it, especially when he's asking Jericho to be so completely forthright with him. He can't very well go posturing or misleading him with some phony bravado, even if the admission does make him feel terribly small.] I'd put my life in their hands. I wouldn't put it in mine.
[There's an irony to that, given how the sylvari literally did put their lives in his hands when they were all out in the jungle, but though he's been told as much, when push comes to shove Vrenille still always doubts how vital he really was: he was a safety net, but not one they really had to use. And maybe now the truth is that he's afraid that he can't do what Jericho needs, not on his own, not without help.
When he looks up again, it's to see Jericho looking him in that strange, almost unnerving way, and he wonders if he's done something wrong (again). It would be so much easier if the man was still just a client; Vrenille is always pure confidence with clients. This--the way something inside of him twists when Jericho talks about finding an inn, all the protests that spring to his lips, the way he just purely doesn't want him to go--is largely foreign terrain for him. He has to force himself to give the pragmatic answer alone.] There's spare rooms here if you don't want to stay with me. We've got more important things to do than spend time finding you a room at an inn. [It's not what he really wants to say, but it is true. This house is more practical, more secure, and just plain safer for everyone involved. And if Jericho wants more space between them, Vrenille reminds himself that he'll just have to accept that, his own feelings aside.]
no subject
[He looks down at his hands. It's not a very comfortable thing to admit that, but how unfair would it be for him to disguise it, especially when he's asking Jericho to be so completely forthright with him. He can't very well go posturing or misleading him with some phony bravado, even if the admission does make him feel terribly small.] I'd put my life in their hands. I wouldn't put it in mine.
[There's an irony to that, given how the sylvari literally did put their lives in his hands when they were all out in the jungle, but though he's been told as much, when push comes to shove Vrenille still always doubts how vital he really was: he was a safety net, but not one they really had to use. And maybe now the truth is that he's afraid that he can't do what Jericho needs, not on his own, not without help.
When he looks up again, it's to see Jericho looking him in that strange, almost unnerving way, and he wonders if he's done something wrong (again). It would be so much easier if the man was still just a client; Vrenille is always pure confidence with clients. This--the way something inside of him twists when Jericho talks about finding an inn, all the protests that spring to his lips, the way he just purely doesn't want him to go--is largely foreign terrain for him. He has to force himself to give the pragmatic answer alone.] There's spare rooms here if you don't want to stay with me. We've got more important things to do than spend time finding you a room at an inn. [It's not what he really wants to say, but it is true. This house is more practical, more secure, and just plain safer for everyone involved. And if Jericho wants more space between them, Vrenille reminds himself that he'll just have to accept that, his own feelings aside.]