Mahar is not the one to help anyone pick up the pieces, but here he is-

He's someone that Bernavas knows, he supposes-

Someone familiar who-

-understands isn't the right word-

It doesn't matter, exactly.

Bernavas is there, with him, face no longer hidden by that mask, letting Mahar brush the fingers of his good hand over warm skin and then tangle in surprisingly soft hair.

And all of it is an absolutely terrible idea so of course they do it.

They move well together; they've always moved well together-

That's what Mahar will keep telling himself-

-for Bernavas's sake.