Anael did not like to hear that bitterness in his laugh, no matter how discreet it might be. "There's nothing wrong with that," he stated softly, and closed the book on his lap to set it on the couch's arm, so he wouldn't have to move to put it away. Once free, his hand found one of Alcuin's, to tangle their fingers loosely together. There was, perhaps, something wrong with Hannibal, but there was certainly nothing wrong with Alcuin's love for him. "You're free to choose everything about your life, now. But love... Love rarely leaves anyone a choice."