Neither boy’s response was what Esmeralda had expected. She allowed herself a moment to feel some disappointment in that; not in them, but in her own quickness to judge. Once she’d felt it, she let it go. Very nearly she might have even considered a smile.
Love and inspiration and destiny. None of their motives matched up, and yet in a way they were all still looking for the same thing. You could call it love, you could call it inspiration, you could call it anything. They all meant this: purpose. They were each here to fulfil their own life’s purpose. To love, to create, to mother.
“All my life I’ve known what it is that I want above all else. In many ways, maybe knowing that has absolved me of much anxiety, because there is nothing else in the world that matters so much to me. I want to be mother, one day.” It went without saying why she would need a partner—at least in the beginning—for that.
Asher barely acknowledged Lorcan’s question, too busy casting a wary glance Esmeralda’s way. He didn’t mean to be rude, there was simply too much defensiveness in his posture with the other person at the table. His hackles were raised. Every wall, or piece of armor he could wear, he was currently donning. Ready to fight off whatever advancement she might wage on him. What greeted him instead of a sword was an admittance that struck a blow almost as brutal.
How strange it was to suddenly be surrounded by so much truth, and know that there was no hiding from it. Even more, how terrifying to hear Esmeralda’s words and find a pang of recognition in them. Fuck. “Most of my experiences with love are rather sudden. I know when I see someone.” He wished he didn’t say it. That the Veritaserum wasn’t working so brilliantly. Maybe then Lorcan’s question could’ve gone unnoticed, and he could shrink back away from Esmeralda’s inevitable gaze.
“I suppose in some ways, I want inspiration, too. Or maybe I just want to stop fucking up, and do better than my father ever did.”
Of all the things someone would come here for, Lorcan was not expecting motherhood to come from her lips, especially one who was paired with him. Not only was Lorcan not ready to be a father— he would never want to pass his affliction on to another. Guaranteeing torment seemed like the most unfatherly thing he could do to a child. Lorcan believed he would be an awful father for many reasons and therefore did not want to be one.
If Esmeralda truly was looking here to find someone to sire her child— whatever animosity there was between her and Asher, he was still likely a better choice. Then he took her words and ran with them. Their similarities became glaringly obvious. For one reason or another, the network had taken the broken things and put them together as a form of tormented entertainment. Perhaps they would all learn from each other, perhaps it would end in murder, only time would tell.
“I’d make a terrible father.” Lorcan admitted, “Even if I wanted to be better than my own— it’s best if I just don’t.” Lorcan had resolved themselves to a loveless and lonely life long ago. “Daddy issues are something I’m intimately familiar with.” He grinned— even under the effects of the serum, his need to be obnoxiously too much in the face of serious matters was ever-present.