[The confession had forced its way out of Richard, ripping at the edges of his old wounds. The sheer strength of it left him feel shaken and almost lightheaded. If it wasn't for the fingers gently caressing the sensitive spot on his neck he would have bolted from his seat and put some distance between them. But as things were he stayed still, closing his eyes as his lover continued stroking his pale neck.

The gesture is affectionate and soothing, making Silco's words sound almost romantic. A promise to stand next to him. No matter what.. Richard almost wanted to believe those words. In another life he even might]

... There was once someone I looked at in search of love and acceptance. [He says as he opens his eyes and slowly turns to face the older man. His amber eye peeking underneath the dark locks. The suffocated pain hidden behind his expression yet so evident in his distant voice.] And yet he failed at both. All because of what lies in that book.

[it was utterly unfair to compare Silco to someone like Henry. One was from the darkness when other one was light. But the wound is open now and Richard can't stop his fears and the pain of the past bleeding out. He had frozen his heart and locked away his desires once before. He could bury them with another lover if push really came to shove. He really could do it.. He would do it, just like Silco had said.

But that didn't mean he wanted to.] Don't read it. You've said it yourself. You have no use for the light.