Whatever reply Hythlodaeus might have readied dies on his lips, both literally and metaphorically, when Hades kisses him--yet at the same time he cannot help thinking that no, he really hasn't changed. What an utter fool, the same as he's ever known him. The sheer physical surprise lasts long enough, however, that Hythlodaeus does not have the chance to return the kiss, but maybe it's for the best, because Hades's next words just cement the understanding in his mind. Same as ever. Same as ever.
Instead of replying, he leans in again to press a kiss to the third eye and then pulls his friend into a hug, resting his cheek against the side of his head - at least this way Hades won't need to notice his tears, even if they're not particularly ones that Hythlodaeus would want to hide.
"Twelve thousand years, and you are still just as clumsy at expressing how you feel."
Hythlodaeus doesn't think he knows anyone else who would mix together wanting to make someone happy and so vehemently denying any worth of the relationship.
Affectionate as he feels, however, it's not like he can even afford to ignore Hades's words. The scope of it still feels surreal to him, and he knows that he cannot in good conscience promise his friend forgiveness or absolution.
But at the same time, damn him if he'll just let him stew in the self-hatred and fear of affection.
"...Though 'tis true I do not know nor understand the full scale of your deeds, this I can say: from what I have seen of you, you are still very much the man I knew. Older, bitter, beaten down, but still as stubborn and foolish and caring. And you should know that 'tis my duty as your friend not to run from your mistakes and misdeeds, but judge and scold and bring you back."
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Instead of replying, he leans in again to press a kiss to the third eye and then pulls his friend into a hug, resting his cheek against the side of his head - at least this way Hades won't need to notice his tears, even if they're not particularly ones that Hythlodaeus would want to hide.
"Twelve thousand years, and you are still just as clumsy at expressing how you feel."
Hythlodaeus doesn't think he knows anyone else who would mix together wanting to make someone happy and so vehemently denying any worth of the relationship.
Affectionate as he feels, however, it's not like he can even afford to ignore Hades's words. The scope of it still feels surreal to him, and he knows that he cannot in good conscience promise his friend forgiveness or absolution.
But at the same time, damn him if he'll just let him stew in the self-hatred and fear of affection.
"...Though 'tis true I do not know nor understand the full scale of your deeds, this I can say: from what I have seen of you, you are still very much the man I knew. Older, bitter, beaten down, but still as stubborn and foolish and caring. And you should know that 'tis my duty as your friend not to run from your mistakes and misdeeds, but judge and scold and bring you back."