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I don't think you understand how badly I want to

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I'm terrified that I'm going to

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I know you're a priest and I know priests take vows but could we maybe

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I'm not running. I told you I wouldn't run and I mean that, I swear I do. But right now I'm scared. I'm scared of how attractive I find you, and I'm scared that I'm going to act on it selfishly.
I'm scared of how important you've become to me in such a short period of time. I'm scared that I'm reading too much into how kind you've been to me, and how patient you've been with my outbursts. I'm scared that you see me as just another soul to shepherd, or do whatever it is priests do for souls. I'm scared that it would be inappropriate or insulting to ask you if you'd be interested in having sex with me, or that you won't want me to be around you when you learn how badly I want to take you into my arms and kiss you.
I'm scared, because I know that when Madame finds out about this, she'll take my unfaithfulness out of my hide.
If I were a coward, I wouldn't say anything, because the thought of my interest disgusting you or ending whatever it is that we have together right now is terrifying. You're the best thing about this train and I don't want to lose that.
But I wouldn't be able to stand myself if I kept my mouth shut and hung around you on the pretext of purely platonic interst and then slunk off to fantasize in private. I respect you far too much to lie to you and use you like that.
So even though I'm scared shitless right now, I need you to know this: I want to touch you. I want to kiss you. I want to play with your hair and map your scars and have all kinds of sex with you. I want to have fun with you. I want to make you feel as joyous and light as you have me in just this last week. I want to see you, all of you, and I want to let you see all of me.
I know this is intense. I know this is sudden. I don't even know if Sanzo priests are allowed to have sexual relationships, or if men who love men are accepted where you come from.
If, after learning all of this, you don't want anything to do with me, please know that I'll respect that. And I'll always respect you, even if you think I'm a disgusting pervert

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And I'll always respect you, no matter what your response is to this utter garbage spewing out of my impertinent mouth

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And I'll always respect you, even if your answer to the question I haven't actually asked you is 'no'.
Thank you for being you. I think you're wonderful. I'm sorry about this.

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Devero is shaking visibly by the time he finishes his missive, his gestures by the end having become jerky and almost unintelligibly uncoordinated. He takes his Interface off and converts it to handheld mode, with the document open on the screen. Before his nerve can quit him, he closes the space between himself and Koumyou and thrusts his Interface into the priest's hands.

"Please," he says, voice strangled. His fingers tremble as he closes Kouymou's long ones around the little device. He's can't bear to meet Koumyou's eyes. "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't-- I know this isn't-- Just, please--

"Please understand."

He leaves the Sanzo there with his Interface and breaks for the far end of the carriage. He's not running, even if his steps are rapid, and he doesn't aim for the door. He just finds another chair on the other side of the pool and sits on it as heavy and boneless as a puppet with the strings cut. He puts his face into his hands, and unable to help himself, he starts to weep.