If their positions were reversed, Dimitri would hold a grudge, no matter how well he understood that the choice had been Dedue's. He doesn't want to place that weight on Dedue -- or on Fever, for that matter.
Dimitri runs his thumb across the back of Dedue's hand. "It is a terrible position to be in. You made an impossible choice."
He looks down at their joined hands. Sometime in the process of vaulting the fence he shed his work gloves; his fingers are crooked and callused, the bare skin littered with scars, as they should be. He shudders, remembering smooth-filed bones in silk upholstery.
"If it's any comfort, I got to kill that queen. She and her hive will not trouble another soul," he says quietly. "In a way, I'm glad it happened. In absence of the chance to rip His throat out, at least I know that I will not bend again." He rubs at the scarred side of his neck. A prickle of electricity raises the hair on his arms and down his back; a growl rattles under his voice. "I bow to no Master, and my body bears the proof."
suicide discussion continues
Dimitri runs his thumb across the back of Dedue's hand. "It is a terrible position to be in. You made an impossible choice."
He looks down at their joined hands. Sometime in the process of vaulting the fence he shed his work gloves; his fingers are crooked and callused, the bare skin littered with scars, as they should be. He shudders, remembering smooth-filed bones in silk upholstery.
"If it's any comfort, I got to kill that queen. She and her hive will not trouble another soul," he says quietly. "In a way, I'm glad it happened. In absence of the chance to rip His throat out, at least I know that I will not bend again." He rubs at the scarred side of his neck. A prickle of electricity raises the hair on his arms and down his back; a growl rattles under his voice. "I bow to no Master, and my body bears the proof."