arms give away your need
"It isn't my place to quarrel with the god of death," Ronin says, softly and carefully and looking anywhere but at Mort. One day he'll understand, undoubtedly, as he'd learned to understand with Vai and Aoife and Vanya, but that day isn't today. Not when things are still raw and every where she belongs sentiment is like a scalpel blade across his flesh.
Struggling to flit between the subject of his dead daughter (another one) and how she's better off, and the somehow problematic nature of his deciding not to risk anyone else's life in the fight against the void, Ronin's frown is quietly calculating as his gaze finally flicks up and darts to his husband. "I would never hurt you," he says as if insulted, his own fingers closing around Remi's. The tide of his his conviction is as steadfast and golden as ever, if not marred by a thread of something violet and insidious; a quiet not unless that remains unspoken.
"You'll forgive me if I feel as if I'm missing a lot of this conversation..."
Struggling to flit between the subject of his dead daughter (another one) and how she's better off, and the somehow problematic nature of his deciding not to risk anyone else's life in the fight against the void, Ronin's frown is quietly calculating as his gaze finally flicks up and darts to his husband. "I would never hurt you," he says as if insulted, his own fingers closing around Remi's. The tide of his his conviction is as steadfast and golden as ever, if not marred by a thread of something violet and insidious; a quiet not unless that remains unspoken.
"You'll forgive me if I feel as if I'm missing a lot of this conversation..."
tie them up and around me
and play me as you please
RONIN
