It's - uncharacteristically vulnerable.
"I do," agrees Prime, softly. He - sighs and leans on Aya, pensive and - sad. That's sorrow.
"I have an apology to make," he murmurs.
"Sorry. It seems I wasn't paying attention to what you wanted to do. I hadn't meant to manipulate you, there. I was - trying to help."
Snuggle. "I can explain seasons to people. That sounds within my current range of capabilities as long as it doesn't take up absurd amounts of time."
"I wasn't doubting your abilities, but I would - I don't want to give you jobs based on just whether or not you can do them, but on whether or not you want to."
"There might not be a way to help, I might just be permanently screwed up, and if people need seasons explained to them I might as well."
"Thank you," he says, instead. And then he kisses her hair.
"We're both immortal. You seem convinced that I'm going to - get better, at some point, that the necklace is going to be a footnote in the next brochure we hand out to new alts, 'oh by the way Spring is irrevocably in love with Prime to a degree for which magic is strictly necessary, but don't worry about that, it doesn't affect anything, she has it under control except for perfunctory kisses every third week. And. I'm. Not sure of that."
"I'm convinced that there is a win condition here, somewhere, not - necessarily that you get 'better.' I'm not, for example, ever expecting you to fall out of love with me, now, or for you to stop considering me your main priority. I'm - not expecting to go through the period of a year or so, and then be able to say, 'Okay, now that we've done that, and pretend everything is as it was before the necklace.' I'm quite certain that's strictly impossible, at this point."
"It's also likely that I might go touch the necklace myself, eventually," clarifies Prime. "I've been toying with the idea."