"I don't need anything more from you. Knowing that things worked out is more than enough. The last thing I remembered thinking was that we were all going to die, my last thought-" Gilmore paused. "I don't need anything more. To be honest I fear hearing about them might make me feel all the more lonely."
It wasn't as though he spent a lot of time with Vox Machina. They breezed in and out of his life, but there was something charming about them. They'd wormed their way into his heart.
Gilmore's gaze moved to J'mon's hand and then back to their face. They were beautiful. He sighed. What an honour this was. "If you need me for anything, please do not hesitate to ask. For magic or for stories or whatever else you feel I can offer you." J'mon knew more about him than he did. If it were anyone else it might be disconcerting, but Gilmore had apparently proved himself capable in ways he wasn't aware of yet.
He took a deep breath, then chuckled. "I'm usually not so tongue tied."
Placing his hand over J'mon's, Gilmore smiled and them. Bashful wasn't a word that would be used to describe him a lot, but here it was.
"And I'll do my best to make up for the lack of other Marquesans. A one man mission, if you will, to maintain the levels of devotion you're used to."