medicine for the dead

Let's not get lost in the dark blue
But darling if we do, just find me and I'll find you

Remi’s smile is small, but real, and the moment her arms open he’s already stepping into them. He doesn’t hesitate—not with her—and his embrace is firm but careful, wrapping around her like he means to shield her from the worst of it, if only for a few minutes. He tucks his chin lightly against the top of her head, breathing in the smell of ash and sea salt and Isla.

"That’s alright," he murmurs, the words warm against her temple. "I’m not here for a great hug. Just your hug." It’s not the first time she’s told him something like that, and it won’t be the last, but Remi never expects her to be anything more than what she is in the moment. It's a lesson hard learned over the past few years, but at least it seems to have finally sunk in.

His thumb strokes lightly along her back, a quiet rhythm meant more to soothe than anything else. "And yes, more than anywhere else. Currently Ronin is rebuilding the portion of the Northaven he tore apart and let me tell you, it's probably best I'm not there." Grinning boyishly, he shrugs softly against her.

the bastion

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)