Something about Akechi’s mention of other people confessing their feelings sends a needle of something sickly and sharp and summer-hot straight through Ren’s gut, and he lightly bites his bottom lip. Huh - jealousy, that’s new. Ren isn’t typically the jealous type. Akechi hadn’t even seemed to say that to be mean - if anything, it was a compliment to Ren. Why did it make him feel jealous?
Ren bats the feeling away, hoping against hope that he didn’t just broadcast it out into the open.
“You keep acting like I’ve never met you before,” he says, reaching for a smile and finding something unexpectedly barbed. “I’m not one of your adoring fans who only ever saw you on TV. I’m not some schoolgirl from another class with a crush. I know you.”
Maybe that was … a little more pointed than Ren intended. Maybe he’s just frustrated that Akechi keeps suggesting he isn’t fully aware of what he’s asking for. Whatever the catalyst, the nerve has been struck, and Ren is no longer speaking like a meek high school student or an easygoing funny-guy friend. This is the defiant rebel who awakened Arsène and told a literal god to begone, focused and steady and entirely certain of himself. He searches to find and hold Akechi’s gaze with his own.
“I spent the better part of the past year watching you, studying you, fighting you, and then fighting with you at my side. Do you really think I’m naïve? Or that you’ve charmed me so well that I can’t still see right through you?”
Somewhere in the part of his brain where logic lives, Ren knows Akechi is still deflecting, and he knows it’s because of the distorted view he has of himself. Knowing that doesn’t stop the flickering angry heat from rising in his chest, but it’s enough to dampen his temper and keep it from going wildly out of control.
“If you think there’s some dark secret about you that you’ve been hiding from me, something you think I don’t already know, then tell me now. But don’t keep acting like I don’t know exactly what I’m doing. I love you - the real you, not that fake mask of a person you used to wear. All of you, and that includes whatever parts you think are ugly or not worth loving.”
He sighs out a sharp breath and continues, a little softer: “I don’t want to change you, Akechi - I want you exactly as you are. I’m not looking for a simple outcome. If you’ve ever trusted me, trust me now when I say this - I know you, and I still love you.”
no subject
Ren bats the feeling away, hoping against hope that he didn’t just broadcast it out into the open.
“You keep acting like I’ve never met you before,” he says, reaching for a smile and finding something unexpectedly barbed. “I’m not one of your adoring fans who only ever saw you on TV. I’m not some schoolgirl from another class with a crush. I know you.”
Maybe that was … a little more pointed than Ren intended. Maybe he’s just frustrated that Akechi keeps suggesting he isn’t fully aware of what he’s asking for. Whatever the catalyst, the nerve has been struck, and Ren is no longer speaking like a meek high school student or an easygoing funny-guy friend. This is the defiant rebel who awakened Arsène and told a literal god to begone, focused and steady and entirely certain of himself. He searches to find and hold Akechi’s gaze with his own.
“I spent the better part of the past year watching you, studying you, fighting you, and then fighting with you at my side. Do you really think I’m naïve? Or that you’ve charmed me so well that I can’t still see right through you?”
Somewhere in the part of his brain where logic lives, Ren knows Akechi is still deflecting, and he knows it’s because of the distorted view he has of himself. Knowing that doesn’t stop the flickering angry heat from rising in his chest, but it’s enough to dampen his temper and keep it from going wildly out of control.
“If you think there’s some dark secret about you that you’ve been hiding from me, something you think I don’t already know, then tell me now. But don’t keep acting like I don’t know exactly what I’m doing. I love you - the real you, not that fake mask of a person you used to wear. All of you, and that includes whatever parts you think are ugly or not worth loving.”
He sighs out a sharp breath and continues, a little softer: “I don’t want to change you, Akechi - I want you exactly as you are. I’m not looking for a simple outcome. If you’ve ever trusted me, trust me now when I say this - I know you, and I still love you.”