He had not wished her into existence, but there she is. Nemeon’s golden eyes move from the snowdrops and catch on Anaise when she speaks his name. There are a lot of emotions that rise up in that moment, and almost all of them conflict with one another. Guilt, relief, hurt. It’s the confusion that reigns, though, and it is not well concealed. It clouds his golden eyes and creases his face into a frown as he looks at her, as she greets him.

She should apologize, he thinks. Or maybe he should?

He can't decide if he blames himself or her more for how their meeting had ended last time.

Instead of an apology, he finds himself saying “What do you want?” But realizing this question sounds harsher than he intends, even in his soft voice, he follows it up for clarification. “You left without saying goodbye. I thought…” But he trails off, thinking that telling her ‘I thought you hated me’ sounds petulant. Like he’s just a pouting colt. And maybe he is, for all that he is grown up.

His thoughts swirl around in his head, focusing on her, before this focus triggers a memory. His frown deepens and his gaze becomes more intent as he remembers how she had changed without him speaking any words out loud. “Can you hear my thoughts?” 

Nemeon wishes he could be like his stone-self when she apologizes, when he sees her eyes water. He doesn’t want to feel the sympathy that grows inside of his heart for her. So he turns his golden gaze away so that he can not see her eyes and, maybe, she will not be able to see his as well. So much of what he could do - all of it, really - was out of his control. Things that he did not mean to do.

Luckily time has erased most of his memories about what else he had thought about when they had met last time - which he is currently trying to remember but coming up empty. All he recalls are those last two wishes that he hadn’t even spoken.

Nemeon frowns, finding it odd to be so aware of his thoughts and that trying to rein them in is having no real effect.

Is she listening to them now?

There's a hum of frustration that goes through him - not knowing how to defend himself against his own thoughts.

He turns back to her, offering a humourless smile that does nothing to lighten up the pain in his eyes.

“You said that last time too.” Both the apology and that she had not meant to do it. And then he is not quite sure what to say next, or how to tell her he doesn't want her to go this time (and then he has to wonder if she knows that already anyway).

Nemeon tenses when she steps towards him but the pressure in his head becomes less a fear of what she will do to him and more what he will do to her if she gets too close. He thinks there is still plenty of space, but that worry for her he had been fighting against rises up and takes over any attempt at shielding himself.

He doesn’t step back. Maybe he should but he is lonely, this youth that only knows darkness and stone. And even if he had felt his heart shatter a little at the end of their first meeting, he remembers the laughter too. Remembers the light.

So the wariness that remains in his expression when she takes that step is half because of that hurt and half because he is watching for signs that his very presence is making her sick, and not just emotionally.

It shouldn’t, but wouldn’t that be just his luck if it did now.

Nemeon watches and listens to her explanation and he feels some of it settle through the guard he has up. Didn’t he feel plagued by his own lack of control? Only he did not think that there was a way to practice not being radioactive or not turning into stone. He is jealous that she is capable of growing, of being better, and he feels some of the pain loosen its tight hold on his heart.

“I guess that makes sense.” He doesn't say he forgives her, doesn't know if he really has yet, but he doesn't want to leave and doesn't want her to go either - so maybe that is what forgiveness he's capable of. Curiosity follows, and a little more light eats away at his sullen expression. “Can your family all do it too?”

No part of Nemeon wants to hate Anaise, though he’s vaguely aware that it might be easier for them both if he did - that way they wouldn’t have future chances to really hurt each other. There’s no chance of it happening, not when she takes another step - and he’s both heartened and worried by it. It’s better than her disappearing on him but presents different challenges.

He can’t forget that he still poses a threat to her.

Her admittance that she is the only one in her family that reads thoughts without meaning to strikes at his heart, kindling a sad version of kinship there. “Well.” There’s just a small pause before he continues. “I know what it’s like to do something you don’t mean to.” He finally voices the words that have been haunting his hurt - the reminder that he might just know exactly what it is to cause pain without meaning to.

“I think… I just thought no one else had that problem.” Which sounds a little naive now that he’s said it outloud - out there assuming he was the only one with problems. “But at least yours has a chance at control, right?” Nemeon offers her what he wants to be an encouraging smile, but it waivers and collapses in on itself so quickly. He wants so badly for there to be a way to simply not be what he is. To not cause sickness just by standing too close, to not be aware that the only time when he is not harmful is when he’s completely unconscious and encased in stone.

He’d like for Anaise to keep drawing forward, would like for them to exist in a moment where neither of them gets hurt and they can really have a chance at friendship. But he’s not sure that moment exists for them.