[ If Larus lets himself feel this, wholly and without pause, it could break him. Dorian would be a weakness, and as much as he already is, that alone would be enough to paint a target on him. It's not what Larus wants, which is why he'd been adamant about drawing lines, about keeping things as impersonal as they can be in a city ruled by dark desires and sex. He can sense it unraveling though, grip loosening ever so slightly before he decides that reason alone isn't good enough for him. His fingers dig into Dorian's clothes, the thumb against his face stroking over warm, pretty skin. ]

I think you're forgetting where we are. Between the two of us, you have more rights than I do at any moment.

[ But it's not because of those things that he doesn't let go. When they're alone, there's only equality. When they're alone, it's them facing whatever comes at them together, and lately, it hasn't been that at all. Larus with his agenda and Dorian with his, secrets twisted into something that feigns propriety on the surface.

His own selfishness shines brightly enough and long enough that he merely leans in against him, temple to temple. ]

I'm not going to let you run away simply because you want to.