[His silence now is the stunned kind, in the face of that admission--everything he's wanted to convince Myr of, everything he's argued in their endless debates, everything he's longed to hear, spilling from his cousin's mouth all at once in that moment of drunken candor. It shouldn't be done at all if it can't be better.
(There are people who would tell him that isn't enough. He hates that that voice is in his head at a moment like this.)]
Then what are we here for now, if not to make it better?
We have each other again. We don't have to be at odds anymore. [Regardless of whether the credit for it goes to random fortune or to the Maker, they have the second chance neither of them ever thought they would get--how can they toss it away with argument and misunderstanding? (Except that Vandelin doesn't know how to do anything but.)]
no subject
(There are people who would tell him that isn't enough. He hates that that voice is in his head at a moment like this.)]
Then what are we here for now, if not to make it better?
We have each other again. We don't have to be at odds anymore. [Regardless of whether the credit for it goes to random fortune or to the Maker, they have the second chance neither of them ever thought they would get--how can they toss it away with argument and misunderstanding? (Except that Vandelin doesn't know how to do anything but.)]