knives being so fucking furious and confused by his Want, his feelings for legato; as gifted as legato is, he’s human, and though knives has rebuilt him in the image he always deserved to embody, he is still of the same matter as the ones who ruined knives’ people
but it’s More than that - because at the end of the day, knives cannot deny the presence of the soul beneath bluesummers’ sun-kissed skin, and he cannot deny that he envies the suns for being the ones who have scorched proof of their devotion on legato’s skin,
and it’s More than that, even,
because to Want is to allow the Beast to take the forefront, and knives is so very aware at all times that this primal, carnal Want is what ruined what little there had been of legato left in the first place
and it’s More than That because he’s seen the way Want has destroyed lives before, and when he found bluesummers in the ruins of the city he’d been enslaved to, he was barely skin and bones, the soul that was meant to flourish inside that fragile shell torn to tatters by the Want of men with blunt fangs and brutal hands
but what’s More than That is the Devotion - and maybe that’s what makes this Different, because knives does not want to become the sun and mark legato’s fragile flesh only to turn away when the lust that churns inside him is sated, cannot even think of tossing the remnants of this burnt miracle into the fathomless dark,
and what matters More than the Want is the Obsession, a thing that grows and grows and grows the longer he goes without summer; it is winter whenever legato is gone to do knives’ bidding, brutal and unpredictable, deadly and cruel - suddenly, knives is a thing capable of wilting
and all humans have ever done to his kind is destroy, and for a little while he’s driven mad by an anger he cannot seem to swallow because suddenly, legato is the sun and knives is the flower beneath its brutal rays starved of water, withering under a weight he suddenly cannot bear,
and his fist is around legato’s throat and he’s so fragile, this human thing, this sun-loved miracle that knives dug out of the ruins of a city plagued by Want,
(it is a beast that lives inside him, too; what does that make him? how do i hold this, vash? could you teach me? for his sake?)
and those golden eyes meet knives’ without a hint of fear and knives is the one burning beneath the weight of a tender sun and he realizes that the difference here is the Devotion, and maybe - maybe that’s all that truly Matters
“stay,” knives hears himself say; his fist is around legato’s throat and legato smells like heated sand and burning skin
“always,” his miracle says, voice like rain in the middle of a heatwave
and it’s More than Want, isn’t it?
and that makes it Different.
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