"God, absolutely." Jack had been tongue-tied by the outburst, snared by the sense that thoughtfulness was what was needed before fervour. But with Eugene supplying the former, he fell into the latter earnestly, shaking his head and rocking closer. "I never meant it that way, I promise, I just . . . always got the impression it was something you didn't want to talk about."

So many times in the early months, skillful dodges and sweet distractions every time he asked, until he learned to just . . . not. To stuff down the simmering curiosities, to give Zevran that privacy he guarded so jealousy, even through the sense that keeping it must have hurt him.

"And you're right. From what it sounds like, humans . . . where you come from, we have a crap record, as far as elves are concerned. So I just really, really didn't want to be the guy making you talk about something you didn't want to talk about, you know? I . . . I wanted it to be your choice to bring all that out into the open. I didn't want to just barge in and acted like I was entitled to it."