REMI
Ronin’s words hit him like a well-placed arrow beneath the ribs; gentle in aim, devastating in effect. Even now, even after so many years, Remi's breath stutters in his chest, his eyes fluttering half-shut like he might blink away the way his heart suddenly swells to fill his whole body. It's not the corny sweetness of the words that does it, it’s the way Ronin says them, like they’re fact, like they’ve always been true and always will be.
Drinking in the lazy blue of Ronin’s eyes gone soft at the edges, crinkled just a little with the kind of warmth that always catches Remi off guard. Salt-dusted stubble across his jaw, still faintly flushed from earlier exertions, and hair—wild and dark and artfully mussed—like some painter's fantasy of what love should look like. It’s not just the beauty of him, though Ronin has always worn handsomeness like second skin. It’s the safety, the mirth tucked behind the smile, the way he’s never once flinched from all that Remi is and was and could be. It's the loyalty carved deep into his bones and the way his body fits against Remi's like a story they never stopped writing.
Remi nods, a hand splayed lazily against Ronin’s ribs where he can feel the rise and fall of every breath. "Mmm," he hums, fond and full of quiet awe. "I know just what you mean."
A soft shrug rolls through his shoulders as he shifts ever so slightly closer, nudging his nose against the Knight’s cheek. "But really," he muses with a grin curling at the corner of his mouth, "there’s probably no topping the way we first met properly. I mean—gods, Ronin—" and here he snickers, eyes gleaming with mischief as a blush bands across his nose at the memory of Ronin emerging naked from the ocean.
Drinking in the lazy blue of Ronin’s eyes gone soft at the edges, crinkled just a little with the kind of warmth that always catches Remi off guard. Salt-dusted stubble across his jaw, still faintly flushed from earlier exertions, and hair—wild and dark and artfully mussed—like some painter's fantasy of what love should look like. It’s not just the beauty of him, though Ronin has always worn handsomeness like second skin. It’s the safety, the mirth tucked behind the smile, the way he’s never once flinched from all that Remi is and was and could be. It's the loyalty carved deep into his bones and the way his body fits against Remi's like a story they never stopped writing.
Remi nods, a hand splayed lazily against Ronin’s ribs where he can feel the rise and fall of every breath. "Mmm," he hums, fond and full of quiet awe. "I know just what you mean."
A soft shrug rolls through his shoulders as he shifts ever so slightly closer, nudging his nose against the Knight’s cheek. "But really," he muses with a grin curling at the corner of his mouth, "there’s probably no topping the way we first met properly. I mean—gods, Ronin—" and here he snickers, eyes gleaming with mischief as a blush bands across his nose at the memory of Ronin emerging naked from the ocean.
Who are you? They ask. Death?
Sometimes... I say. But not today
Sometimes... I say. But not today
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
