[ Dorian's pulse ruptures like a bomb, and it suddenly makes sense to him. All of it. His moods, the fighting, the words that try to pierce him in the soft spots he guards so fiercely. He's been here before, only once, but the aftermath of it had been brutal; and this pulls at him in ways that are completely different from the experience he'd shared that night so long ago with Casimir. It's difficult to love something as fleeting as a mortal, especially one intent on sacrificing his life over the injustice of others, and somehow, Dorian believes that's exactly what he wants to do? Because of one moment in an alley and the few times he's come back covered in blood?

No, that's not quite it. But he understands.

It's enough to fight him, to steady his grip and draw back so that Dorian's forced to come closer into Larus' embrace. He settles a hand at his side and then around him, effectively trapping Dorian there until he decides to release him. He doesn't think he will, not until they've reached some sort of agreement. ]

There's no one outside this room that matters to me, [ he corrects slowly, pointedly. ] And I never said I wanted to die. Not here. Not where it matters.

[ Back home is different because... it just is. He'll destroy Sun, even if it means destroying himself, and it's not like he'll have anyone to return to if he somehow managed to survive it. Casimir is a martyr, and Egil, at least, would have Jericho. He wouldn't be alone, and that's all he can ask for in that world of his. This one is something entirely separate, releasing Dorian's wrist because he knows he can't escape the hold he has on him and using that hand to turn his face towards him. ]

I'm not letting go until you give me a reason to. [ And he doesn't just mean physically. ]