Sermias lowered his gaze, looking at Roy's hand.
It was a delicate hand, skin fair, fingertips tinged with a faint pink. Usually, it would touch him, caress him, press warm Light Elements, and heal his mottled or ferocious wounds.
Occasionally at night when Roy couldn't sleep well and crawled over, her fingers would unconsciously scratch his chest, bringing a strange itch. Sermias didn't evoke any extra emotions; he was satisfied with this temporary partner's abilities, thus tolerating her various little habits.
In Sermias' eyes, Roy was nearly genderless.
He himself was not an Elf who cared about gender.
More accurately, there was not much he cared about. The lack of emotions made him more serene and more indifferent than other Elves. Love and desire could not occupy any part of his life, and the need to "be loved" was even more absurd.
He could not understand Roy's proposal, could not experience Roy's thoughts.
