Waiting for the answer is sheer torture. Part of him wonders, his throat working and muscles tensing, if Gideon is doing it on purpose. It certainly would not have been beyond him, and it also certainly would not have been entirely undeserved. He'd walk over knives for Gideon, and perhaps the man himself knows that now. The question is if he cares.

For a few long moments he's sure he'll be forced to beg. The fact that they are in many ways incompatible means nothing to him. Gideon is more than the sum of his relatively unassuming parts. He taken that largely for granted in the past. Had not been able to give him the trust required to expose all that he needed and feared. Whether it would be different now is hard to say, but things are different now. He is different now, perhaps.

The reproach comes as a surprise, even then, like a physical blow. The hurt flashes on his face, and he feels rather suddenly desperate - weightless and lost and spinning wildly like a stone dropped from a very high tower.

"You don't have to be. I can leave..." he says, pulling the large emerald ring from his right ring finger - the only one in attendance on his hands these days - and placing it firmly on the table. Ashura had given that to him after he'd delivered one of his own along with the promise of his attempt at fidelity, and the gaudy stone shone rather accusingly up at him now. But that promise had been made as a result of the lessons he had learned from this man, and it no longer seemed possible to fulfill that with Gideon himself around. And along with the loss of it's weight came a feeling of finality. He hadn't been sure that was what he need to do until now, but it's now the only choice he has.

"I will," he adds more firmly, "whether or not you say yes."