The firelight flickers off of Kronid's pale skin and Georg lets out a small noise at the sight of him. Pained and pitifuly, even as he moves forward towards him, fists clenching at his sides. He reaches out to trail his fingers over Kronid's chest, lips parted slightly.

"I can't," he whispers, stepping into Kronid's space. Gaze falling to his lips. "I shouldn't."