[ A relief, huh. Death wasn't ever one for them. Just another tool to use. So it's... odd feel him relax at the idea.

...

(Would you?)

Siffrin sits up a little more, resting back on G'raha's lap (the arms that hold tight are still so nice, to you,) and he lifts his hands to cup the other's face. Small squishes of the cheeks. ]

It'll be a long, long, long time from now, if ever. I promise. I won't let you tire. I won't... even let you be bored. Even if that means, for the next century or five, you'll still be figuring me out.

[ (Because

they don't know if they could.) ]