[ Yes, the city is easy to blame. It clearly has nothing to do with their own vices or the burdens they carry in the dark, eyeing Dorian with less subtlety than before. He's certainly in some sort of mood, evident by the way he's speaking of things that haven't seemed to be an issue before, but maybe he's returned to him like this one too many times. Once again, he's reminded that he isn't Casimir, that he doesn't question why and only accepts it for what it is.

There has to be more, though, but Larus isn't going to dwell on it to the point of obsession. He simply closes the space between them and takes Dorian's hand, focusing almost too quickly on the steady thrum of his pulse. What he'd wanted, what he shouldn't think about. ]

I don't know what that means. [ Because he could interpret it a thousand different ways and not because he doesn't understand it. ] But if that's all you have to say to me, I can make this easy for you. I didn't have to come back.

[ And he might just leave since this had obviously been a poor idea, though he doesn't let go of him. ]