RONIN
kiss your perfect day goodbye
Ronin's lips part to object only to find there's absolutely nothing there that he could say that would make sense. The result is a completely baffled, black clad man bumbling along in Remi's wake, his brows drawn into a frown, his wrist comically extended before him (you know, since he's being pulled about).
Only suddenly they're dancing, or that's how it will appear to any passers by, anyway - such is Remi's movement that Ronin is almost forced back into an arch, his chin lifted so as not to be impaled by the angel's accusatory finger. "You could go to the theatre with me," he suggests, his tone infuriatingly mild.
Slowly, he reaches up to pinch the tip of Remi's finger, as if to move it enough to straighten up properly. "And maybe I could help out in your shop?"
Only suddenly they're dancing, or that's how it will appear to any passers by, anyway - such is Remi's movement that Ronin is almost forced back into an arch, his chin lifted so as not to be impaled by the angel's accusatory finger. "You could go to the theatre with me," he suggests, his tone infuriatingly mild.
Slowly, he reaches up to pinch the tip of Remi's finger, as if to move it enough to straighten up properly. "And maybe I could help out in your shop?"
because the world is on fire
