We need to talk

Bas’ lack of anger is bittersweet, a relief and an irritation. a part of them had been geared up for a fight, ready to scream their throat raw until the anger thumping against their skull has dulled to manageable levels. but they don’t want Bas mad at them, not truly; they don’t think they can handle it. “alright.”

their voice is quiet, neutral, disguising the maelstrom of fury and betrayal raging in their veins. it feels like nothing will ever be alright again. but what can they do? they don’t want to leave the Armada, it’d be like tearing their own heart out through their ribcage. and they can’t ask Bas to give up his new mate - especially when they’re not sure who he’d choose. despite all his assurances, they can’t quite ignore the fear whispering through them, the fear that Bas is discarding the old and building himself a new family from the ground up. a better family. “but i…i might never be okay with this. Ignita kept this from me for so long.” it’s a rather mild way of describing the vehemence of their anger, the proverbial vein pulsing at their temple. “i don’t know if i can forgive her for that.”

"Speech"