"I love you, too." Snuggle.

Snuggle-hug. He seems to find it cheering.

Good, that was kind of the point of it. She pulls back enough and stands on her toes so she can kiss his nose. That seems like a good avenue for continued cheering attempts. Nose-kiss!

—he giggles, and scoops her up for a return nose-kiss, and then puts her down again and hugs her and pets her hair.

Well that's adorable and she eeps before she breaks down giggling. Yes, hug.

... Then, okay, more than just being adorable at each other. C'mon, you're a grownup, you can use words. She pulls away enough so she can look at him properly.

"I, um. I'm sorry. I realized in retrospect I probably, um. Hurt you a little. When I basically said I needed you to stop torturing people in order to tolerate loving you. I'm sorry, for that. It was kind of. It hurt you when I didn't mean to and while I was trying to sort out my head? And honestly it wasn't even accurate once I did sit down and sort out my head."

...hug.

"I - yeah. Thank you. For apologizing. It was... I mean, I couldn't even say you were wrong to want that? It's perfectly reasonable not to want to date someone who keeps sex slaves so he can torture them whenever he feels like it."

"Right. It wouldn't be wrong, but it was. Inaccurate and more hurtful to you than I'd like to be."

He pets her hair.

Hug.

"Do you want to hear just the end result of me sorting out my head, or hear the highlights of this road of self discovery I went on?"

"—it seems like it might make more sense with more context?"

"That's fair." Nuzzle. "Okay, so a relevant thing about me is that I like the world being... the term I want to use is arranged sensibly? I want people to be where they're safe, happy, fulfilled, and not worried about being hurt. Where they have the resources they need to do what they'd like to do, an environment that fits them, and surrounded by people that they like and that they're complemented by. Which is obviously a thing that's kind of too impossible to ever properly exist, but that's not the point of it. The point's more of - like an exercise in puzzle solving, where the world is a giant scrambled jigsaw puzzle and we're clicking together pieces because they fit together, not because we're going to get a satisfyingly complete puzzle at the end of it."

...he smiles. "Aw."

Fond smile. "Thank you. So within this metaphor, I like putting pieces together. For a number of different reasons - I like seeing pieces that fit together, I find pieces that obviously don't fit a bit distressing, and I like being the sort of person that solves puzzles. It's personally fulfilling to make systems and people work, for everyone involved. And it's not the right solution if it's at the expense of one of the pieces, either, it's - it's not an exercise in bending pieces into shape so they fit where I find it aesthetically pleasing, or trading off one person's suffering for everyone else's bliss, or ignoring the inconvenient pieces that don't have obvious places to fit with because they're annoying. It's making pieces click together, whatever that happens to mean for the pieces themselves. If that makes any sense."

"Hmm. Maybe."

Snuggle. "So that baseline probably explains why my reaction to your, erm, sex slaves, was to reach for the - the 'I specifically am responsible for less people being tortured' button a bit better? It was sort of. There is a thing that doesn't tidily work out for everyone involved, and it's in front of me, have I made it all fit a bit better with how I've clicked with one of the involved pieces, how does this affect the overall attempt to solve puzzles. Which makes sense from a detached puzzle solving perspective, but from a personal one can get the results we saw, and I'm sorry. I should not be looking at our relationship from a detached puzzle solving perspective, and instead focus on - if I fit with you. As you are."

...he hugs her. "Yeah. It's—I don't—"

He sighs, and starts over. "It's no joy to be told that I'm not fit to love, but it's no surprise either. So when it seemed like that was what you meant, I didn't think to question it."

She can pet him, can't she, hair pets can go both ways. Pet pet pet.

"I'm sorry for making you feel that way," she murmurs, snuggling him.

He tugs her over to the nearest comfy couch so he can curl up with his head in her lap.

She consents to tugging! He may have so many hair pets. And a kiss on his forehead, along with an apologetic look. Pet pet pet.

Snuggle-nestle-snuggle. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Pet pet. "Should I continue? I'm perfectly happy to keep petting you if you'd like to just do that."

Cozy nuzzle. "Mm, go on."

"All right." Forehead kiss. "So then I sat down and figured out what I could tolerate, and uh. The results were a little surprising? I'm not okay with the sex slaves and the torture, but I..." She trails off, thoughtfully petting him. "Well, okay. My brother's going to kill someone in the next couple of days, if he hasn't already. Possibly via torturing him to death, I'm not actually sure, I haven't asked and frankly don't want to know. This makes me uncomfortable, and if he's going to kill someone I'd really rather he do it cleanly, but it's. I'm going to love him regardless? He's my brother, I love him, I will disagree with some of his choices and attempt to argue him down if I disagree enough, but. It's based around who he is, not what he does?"

"Mm. Yeah, I see what you mean."