[ Compatible, in perhaps the worst way: Iorveth, competitive, always looks to match someone else's intensity. Give as much as he's given, never one to be satisfied with only taking. It's a strange thing to not be the only one with the pathological baseline― usually, it's the other side of his equation struggling to keep up with him.
He says as much, musing out loud: ] And how intoxicating it is, being seen by you. [ One traumatized elf seeking another traumatized elf for shelter. Iorveth kind of sees it in those terms, but it feels less alarming and terrible and more 'we were made for each other'. Grandiose and delusional. ] I've never loved anyone the way I love you.
[ Chin tipped, his statement punctuated by a low sigh. Content, thoughtful. He'd thought Isengrim was an unhinged baseline for love, bonded through war and grief and survival; not to compare, but if that relationship felt like trying to grasp at something with broken nails and bleeding fingers, this one feels like sinking into a warm, comfortable, very bottomless pit. ]
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He says as much, musing out loud: ] And how intoxicating it is, being seen by you. [ One traumatized elf seeking another traumatized elf for shelter. Iorveth kind of sees it in those terms, but it feels less alarming and terrible and more 'we were made for each other'. Grandiose and delusional. ] I've never loved anyone the way I love you.
[ Chin tipped, his statement punctuated by a low sigh. Content, thoughtful. He'd thought Isengrim was an unhinged baseline for love, bonded through war and grief and survival; not to compare, but if that relationship felt like trying to grasp at something with broken nails and bleeding fingers, this one feels like sinking into a warm, comfortable, very bottomless pit. ]