He said "I bet you don't remember me"
Remi snickers with a warm, boyish grin, head tipping slightly as if to say well played without having to give Ronin the satisfaction aloud.
As the Knight pads across the sand to invade his space—as if Remi would ever call it that—the Bastion opens his arms without hesitation, curling them securely around Ronin’s back and pressing a slow, affectionate kiss to his cheek. "No," he declares with mock severity, rolling his eyes dramatically, "not creepy mannequins, thank you very much." Drawing himself up to his full height—one entire inch taller, which he enjoys immensely—Remi lofts his chin in feigned superiority, eyes gleaming. "I was thinking more like beacons of safety, actually. But thank you so much for ruining it."
The effect is ruined, of course, by the way he nudges his hip against Ronin’s with an unmistakably fond smirk, any loftiness melting into a low hum of contentment. "Now," he says, twisting just enough to glance back toward the beach with an arch of his brows, "I believe I was promised drinks. Possibly with tiny umbrellas. Possibly ending with you getting tipsy and me getting a little handsy beneath the table." His fingers tug lightly at the back of Ronin’s shirt as if to say well?, but there’s no urgency in it. Just the quiet promise of a moment stolen, however briefly, from everything else.
~FIN
As the Knight pads across the sand to invade his space—as if Remi would ever call it that—the Bastion opens his arms without hesitation, curling them securely around Ronin’s back and pressing a slow, affectionate kiss to his cheek. "No," he declares with mock severity, rolling his eyes dramatically, "not creepy mannequins, thank you very much." Drawing himself up to his full height—one entire inch taller, which he enjoys immensely—Remi lofts his chin in feigned superiority, eyes gleaming. "I was thinking more like beacons of safety, actually. But thank you so much for ruining it."
The effect is ruined, of course, by the way he nudges his hip against Ronin’s with an unmistakably fond smirk, any loftiness melting into a low hum of contentment. "Now," he says, twisting just enough to glance back toward the beach with an arch of his brows, "I believe I was promised drinks. Possibly with tiny umbrellas. Possibly ending with you getting tipsy and me getting a little handsy beneath the table." His fingers tug lightly at the back of Ronin’s shirt as if to say well?, but there’s no urgency in it. Just the quiet promise of a moment stolen, however briefly, from everything else.
~FIN
and I said "only ever other memory"
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.
