This feels. This feels like simultaneously the worst and best thing a person has said to him in decades. That sensation that he's done something awful to Luka for him to say something like this makes his chest restrict so tight he can't say anything. He manages a faint noise in his throat, something like the beginning of a whimper.

It's a sound that about sums up the pure miserable joy that fills him up just a moment later. He has wanted to be wanted for so long that actually getting it makes him choke slightly, and the conflict between this feeling and his own ingrained guilt are just too much.

He probably couldn't talk about these feelings in his own language, much less translated through two languages into Common, so he stays silent. His eyes rush over Luka's face, trying to find any hint that he's not serious. And when he doesn't see it, he can do nothing else but close the little bit of distance left between them, kissing him suddenly and maybe desperately. There's so much he should be saying, but he doesn't know how yet.