The salt tears fell from Emilia's eyes like circumfluent glass, dropping gently onto her hands, clasped onto his like a lifeline, like she would never let go. She knelt to meet his eyes, making herself his equal, and she spoke in earnest, in passion and without regret or condition, and he felt tears well up in his own eyes at her ardent admission of her deranged love, tears that he had not shed since childhood...tears that were barely kept from falling.
She is too good for you, too kind and pure for a monster like you... You do not deserve her love or affection; you do not even deserve her touch! She will her self and spirit kill, being bound to you... Leave her now, wretched beast; leave her before you crush her and tear her apart...
But he was selfish, and could not bring himself to rise from his unguarded position or release Emilia's gaze. Instead, he slowly, carefully, placed his strong arms around her slender form, and drew her gently to his breast, placing a kiss so ephemeral it was nearly naught but a breath of wind onto each bruised cheek. Her words echoed again and again in his mind, drawing out the poisonous tirade of his own thoughts: Iago, I love you.
"And I you," he whispered, broken and whole all at once, meaning the words with all of his heart. Iago, I love you...and I you. They filled his soul with poison...and o, what sweet poison it was.
