Cyril tightened his grip on Lucius' wrists and kissed him back for just a moment, a small whimpered noise passing between their lips before he broke away and released his grip on the other man.
He turned and stumbled away, his hand pressed to his mouth, lest he spill his heart across the room. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't deal with this. It was too much. He never wanted Lucius to know how he was thinking about him, and now it was too late. Not saying anything now would be disastrous, but would it be worse than what he knew he'd been thinking? Despite everything, despite himself and his career and his training and his anger- Cyril still cared for Lucius, and he didn't want to hurt him. He stopped at his desk and braced himself on the wood, his back to Lucius as his mouth opened and out came his thoughts.
"We're not good together Lucius. Do you really think that? Do you really think I bring out the best in you? That you bring out the best in me?" He said, closing his eyes, squeezing them shut, hating the hot pricking of tears threatening to fall, "I'm not supposed to have these feelings for you. I got so caught up in you. I saw this person in you that I'm not even sure is real. I had these stupid thoughts that I could change you, that I could get you to do something selfless, something that I could use to keep you out of prison and we could-- something that I could use to justify how I feel about you. But you're--you're not the person I need you to be."