Good fucking question. Ishmael supposed this meant he was going to give Monty what he wanted, after all. “I’ll do it, then.” He was drunk on him and in love with him and he held onto Monty’s shoulder, as sure as ever that this was a bad idea but surer than ever that he was going to do it.
Not tonight, though. “I’ll turn you. Give me some time, and I promise you I will –” Ishmael said, pondering their situation with a new solemnness, “but you have to be sure. When I come to you, when I’m ready –” he would need some time to come to terms with the request, and plan out their next moves – “I’ll ask you again. And if you’ve changed your mind, you need to be honest with me. I won’t think worse of you if you do. Just promise me that.”
Not tonight, though. “I’ll turn you. Give me some time, and I promise you I will –” Ishmael said, pondering their situation with a new solemnness, “but you have to be sure. When I come to you, when I’m ready –” he would need some time to come to terms with the request, and plan out their next moves – “I’ll ask you again. And if you’ve changed your mind, you need to be honest with me. I won’t think worse of you if you do. Just promise me that.”
