A strained look crosses Ruto's face when Juta refuses to look at him.
He's been holding the intense, unending, punishing affection for years—through summers and winters, through everything just to end up here.
He thinks that Juta should be able to understand the hopeless feeling of loving someone who never looked back.
This one-sided affection has reached its limit. Ruto can't contain it anymore. Any longer and it will burn him from the inside out—and he knows what burning feels like, has always known, the dragon fire in his blood a constant reminder of what he is.
But too many things have happened between them, and it's already too late to turn things around.
Now, Ruto doesn't even hope for Juta to share his feelings. Just acknowledging it is enough. As long as he knows.
Juta's head is stubbornly tilted to the side, his eyes set with a coldness Ruto hadn't seen before. Even his hate possesses more warmth than this frigid disgust on his face.
