[ Fitz finds himself grateful for the movement onward, slipping his hands back into his pockets and following after Markus.

The last thing he expects is a thank you, which prompts a sudden jerk of his head to look at Markus, features open and unguarded. They've compared notes and traded enough experiences for Fitz to surmise that Markus won't end up like Ophelia — that he's probably a good person, as much as Fitz believes in that anymore. And Fitz has only told half his story, omitting the parts that make his stomach twist with unease. It's too complicated to untangle for the uninitiated (and it remains convoluted, in his head), but it still feels like cheating. Maybe another time. ]

Yeah, of course. [ That's an automatic reassurance. He elaborates, voice softening. ] I haven't been able to talk about this with anyone, so you're the one doing me a favour. [ His gaze turns upward, squinting in the sunlight. ] You're very trusty — trustable. [ a helpless gesture. ] You know what I mean.

[ you will make all the connections, and fitz will throw himself in the fake river. ]