the bastion
And you should know,
I left but never lost my place
I left but never lost my place
Remi lifts his brows, thoughtful rather than dismissive. "Her notice said it was time to rebuild it anyway," he murmurs, the words slow and even, as if weighing each one. "And I’ve never known her to be a liar." Flora was dramatic and reckless to be sure, but an outright liar?
His fingers remain still beneath Ronin’s, though the tension threading through the golden bond is unmistakable. Not sharp or hot, but bitter in a quiet, metallic way; like blood swallowed after biting one’s tongue. Remi only shrugs, the motion small. "At least when we’ve made mistakes with Flora, she’s let us make it up to her," he says softly, his mouth tugging faintly at one corner. "Even if it’s meant being handed a hammer and working off the debt in sweat." It felt like their daughter cared enough to repair what had been inadvertently broken, whereas with Mateo, it didn't, and gods but that was a sobering thought.
Remi's on the edge of continuing—of laying bare the ache Mateo’s silence has carved deeper than he'd like to admit—when the arrival of their drinks interrupts him. The timing is perfect and cruel, and so Remi smiles at the server politely, the corners of his mouth still tight from words half-swallowed. He eyes the creamy bouquet before him with a crooked smile, lifting it delicately between his fingers, the flowers brushing his knuckles like apology. "Cheers," he says quietly, glancing at Ronin over the rim as if his toast carries more than it claims.
His fingers remain still beneath Ronin’s, though the tension threading through the golden bond is unmistakable. Not sharp or hot, but bitter in a quiet, metallic way; like blood swallowed after biting one’s tongue. Remi only shrugs, the motion small. "At least when we’ve made mistakes with Flora, she’s let us make it up to her," he says softly, his mouth tugging faintly at one corner. "Even if it’s meant being handed a hammer and working off the debt in sweat." It felt like their daughter cared enough to repair what had been inadvertently broken, whereas with Mateo, it didn't, and gods but that was a sobering thought.
Remi's on the edge of continuing—of laying bare the ache Mateo’s silence has carved deeper than he'd like to admit—when the arrival of their drinks interrupts him. The timing is perfect and cruel, and so Remi smiles at the server politely, the corners of his mouth still tight from words half-swallowed. He eyes the creamy bouquet before him with a crooked smile, lifting it delicately between his fingers, the flowers brushing his knuckles like apology. "Cheers," he says quietly, glancing at Ronin over the rim as if his toast carries more than it claims.
and these nights I miss you most
my heart is yours to break
my heart is yours to break
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.
