[Agreeable to a fault, and undeniably well-aware of what she wants. Gilgamesh wonders if he was born to meet this woman, and why they couldn't have crossed paths earlier on, another world away. They would've had fun together, he thinks. They could've won his war together, he thinks, and maybe his freedom, too, even if his embittered nature would deny the possibility of it.
But already he'd begun to dream, and it was all her fault. He should be angry with her, for getting his hopes up. For, like Setsuna, causing to reveal more of himself than he ever intended. Yet looking upon her now, posed forehead to forehead, he can only find the greatest fondness for her, and the sincerest gratitude he was no longer alone so far from the home that wasn't.
Rather than lift her, Gilgamesh opts for a humbler gesture, standing to his feet and tugging her along by the hand.]
This way.
[He will lead her to his room with a quiet sense of purpose. Knowing it would've come to this eventually.]
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But already he'd begun to dream, and it was all her fault. He should be angry with her, for getting his hopes up. For, like Setsuna, causing to reveal more of himself than he ever intended. Yet looking upon her now, posed forehead to forehead, he can only find the greatest fondness for her, and the sincerest gratitude he was no longer alone so far from the home that wasn't.
Rather than lift her, Gilgamesh opts for a humbler gesture, standing to his feet and tugging her along by the hand.]
This way.
[He will lead her to his room with a quiet sense of purpose. Knowing it would've come to this eventually.]