[ Cupping Midnight's face in one hand, Keita brushes his thumb tenderly over the strong line of his brow, then along his cheekbone, a gentle re-memorization of the lines of a face he already knows by heart. Even without his clairvoyance he would be able to read the anxiety in Midnight's expression, along with the tenderness and adoration, and it makes his chest twinge slightly in sympathy. ]

I promise that I will. [ And he seals it with a kiss, his lips pressing gently to Midnight's forehead. ] And will you try your very best to trust me when I tell you I want you all the same even if you aren't perfect, always?

[ It would be impossible for Keita to hold Midnight's concerns against him. God knows Keita has his own—the omnipresent fear that anyone who comes too close to him will suffer for it fills him with a little anxiety of his own, even here and now, where Keita has never been reviled for his abilities. But he loves Midnight regardless, and hopes that in time Midnight might come to trust that Keita means it wholeheartedly when he says that Midnight is enough, just as he is, just as he will be.

After a moment, Keita's smile turns wry, and he leans himself right back against Midnight's chest to hide a wave of self-consciousness. ]

I don't know what comes after this, [ he admits. ] No one has ever told me they love me before. I'll court you properly—or try, at least? I hope you don't mind clockwork as gifts, I've no eye for flowers.