The influence of the fragment of Abaddon that he carries plays a stronger role in his emotional state than Devin knows. It simultaneously protects him and weighs on him, and someday he will come to understand why.

Devin steps out of the kitchen and hands X a mug as he passes; it's a green tea with some kind of roasted grain in it. He sets his own mug on the low coffee table and settles on the edge of the couch like he's prepared to get up again quickly.

"He knows how I feel." Beat. "Or that I feel something, at least." Devin doesn't have words for it; only that it's there and frankly beyond his capacity for description. "I think he would wait a long time for me," Devin confesses softly, clasping his hands together. The Fool had said as much at the beach. "I have no desire to be a weight around his neck, so I can't do nothing. The choice is whether to push him away or-- to let him get closer." He rubs a thumb against his palm, frowning. "So far I've got plenty ideas for the former, and none for the latter. No surprise there."