Michel's head snapped up and he looked at Zevran as though he'd just spit on his cheek, a difficult look to describe, shock, confusion, hurt, "that is not what I meant. There is a distinct difference between sharing your bed and sharing your bed with feelings such as these."
"And what difference would that be? Have your expectations changed? Do you want something I cannot give you?" This was not on him. He was not in the wrong; all he'd done was taken a lover. Michel had made it complicated.
"My expectations have changed, more for myself than for you, I didn't expect you to change...I did not expect anything...well this is not entirely true. I expected this on some level," not that he expected Zevran to drive the knife quite so deep, he did not expect him to turn the knife counter-clockwise either. He expected a no or a simpler rejection of his feelings and for it to be left at that, but this was even more unbearable.
"So long as you did not expect me to drop everything, swoon in your arms and confess the same." Zevran leaned back against the wall, arms crossed- and he had managed to ignore the thing in Michel's hands for quite some time now, but curiosity was getting the better of him. "What is that you've brought- a token of affection?"
"Is everything an ulterior motive? I only expected you to be honest and you've been quite honest," though it had gone from being a dialogue to being a defensive attack and that was not what Michel wanted. It was not the reason he'd come here after all, that and...Michel looked at his cargo, his arm had almost gone numb from it, but this entire conversation could explain this numbness, "it is...it is nothing."
"I am an assassin- there is almost always an ulterior motive- and you yourself are Orlesian. We have already discussed this." He waved the question off with a dismissive flick of his hand, eyes flitting from the package to Michel's face and back again. "If it was nothing you would not have brought it."
"And it suddenly matters to you when it didn't seem to matter before, that I am Orlesian. You were once so quick to defend me against people who threatened me for being Orlesian, for being a Chevalier, and for those who saw me as a traitor," it was certainly a question that deserved examining, especially since not long ago he said he would have a talk with one of his companions about this very thing, "you would not want it now, what does it matter?"
"It is easy not to care when time spent together means nothing. Now you come to me and say it had weight, it has meaning, with your heart in your hands." Everything became suspect in that light. How could it not? "Gifts among friends are not so strange. But this was to be more than that, yes? A token of affection. A declaration."
Michel was not one to weep openly, nor was he one to do so very often, but to say that the time that they spent together meant nothing when it had meant something to him? Well, it stung undeniably, not one to burst into hysteric, he felt it more than registered the dampness rolling down the side of his face, like one might with sweat. Was it numbness, or was the lack of acknowledgement just one more way for Michel to keep his dignity in check? Whatever it was it didn't stop the indignity from creeping it's way along his neck and face, this was a different kind of heat, the kind of heat you keep buried in your chest and he knew he had to leave this room before he was overwhelmed by it.
"I did not come here to fight with you...I..." Michel pinched the bridge of his nose again and shook his head trying to clear it. He wasn't even going to deign to acknowledge the package, there was enough humiliation to be had in this moment, why give Zevran something he'd crafted himself only to be told it was meant nothing in the same way their time spent together meant nothing, "...I should go, stay safe in Antiva."
He couldn't endure it another moment and while his feet felt like lead, he still willed them to move.
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"I did not come here to fight with you...I..." Michel pinched the bridge of his nose again and shook his head trying to clear it. He wasn't even going to deign to acknowledge the package, there was enough humiliation to be had in this moment, why give Zevran something he'd crafted himself only to be told it was meant nothing in the same way their time spent together meant nothing, "...I should go, stay safe in Antiva."
He couldn't endure it another moment and while his feet felt like lead, he still willed them to move.