If you take fakir’s feelings for mytho as romantic that just makes that whole situation all the more complicated like
Imagine you’re Mytho. You can’t make choices you can’t want things for yourself. You are completely at the mercy of what other people choose to do to you.
Of the two people who shape your life, one of them is vocal about the way she loves you. She treats you as a living doll, playing house with you and pretending you care about her (you don’t care about anything).
The second person in your life is your protector, your guardian. He tries (and fails) to maintain complete control over your actions. He dictates near every aspect of your life: what and when you eat, how you spend your time, what you’re allowed to read. He doesn’t say he loves you, not like the other one, rather he berates you constantly. But if you were able to truly see, you might notice the way he looks at you. Lingering glances, followed by a bitter scowl of shame. He never tells you he loves you, but neither can he hide it from you.
You’re at the mercy of people who want you desperately, yet can’t stand the idea of who you’d be outside of their reach. Your whole life is staked against their capacity for restraint. You can’t feel fear, not yet, but someday, when you are once again lucid, you’ll lie awake at night thinking of the danger you were in.