"I don't know that it will," Zagreus admits, busying himself pouring a shot of ambrosia into each shotglass before placing the rest of the bottle between them. He sort of wishes he hadn't, because Than just looks... beautiful, his cheeks golden with ichor, his silver hair glinting in the moonlight and the sors-ice. Even as Thanatos speaks, Zagreus finds himself glancing toward his lips, and wondering what it would be like to kiss them. His fingers on his other hand flex automatically at the thought, and he finds himself gripping Than's hand a little tighter than he'd intended. His thumb brushes along the back of Than's hand, his eyes lingering on their entwined fingers. "I never really know exactly where I stand with you."

Gods, how stupid can he be? There's not even a guarantee Thanatos feels the same way he does. But backing out now would mean Zagreus could never forgive himself. Fear is for the weak, he hears Achilles say to him in his mind. Risk it all, echoes the voice of Patroclus, not far behind his companion in both life and death.

He has to confess, again, now, and damn the potential consequences. He draws his eyes away from their clasped hands, daring himself to look into Thanatos' eyes as he speaks once more. "But I know how I feel, and I'd rather be upfront with you, even if it means risking our relationship, such as it is."