Men like me...we are not meant to have such things. [ The lie is weak on his tongue even now, and he knows it. An excuse, something he can tell himself to make the wanting of more seem like a foolish dream. That it is not possible, that it is not for him, that it is not what assassins do.
He wants and is now out of reasons not to want.
Perhaps someone might come along that can offer everything- but trust is not offered so easily.
Perhaps one day Alistair may very well roll over and choose to hop borders.
Perhaps he will die tomorrow and all of this is moot, who can say? ]
no subject
Men like me...we are not meant to have such things. [ The lie is weak on his tongue even now, and he knows it. An excuse, something he can tell himself to make the wanting of more seem like a foolish dream. That it is not possible, that it is not for him, that it is not what assassins do.
He wants and is now out of reasons not to want.
Perhaps someone might come along that can offer everything- but trust is not offered so easily.
Perhaps one day Alistair may very well roll over and choose to hop borders.
Perhaps he will die tomorrow and all of this is moot, who can say? ]
You have other things to worry about, Anders.