We exist because they know, deep in their hearts, that we exist. The words slither up through the recesses of memory, though the Endless could not voice it if asked: Desire settles around the chair, finally coming to rest with legs curled about the chair's feet, arms about the young man's knees, and cheek half-insinuated into Regulus' lap.

"I love you, Regulus. Nothing will change that."

And Desire feels nothing like a doll.
Nothing like a doll at all.