I don't know who I am, I don't know who I'll be
"Apparently," Remi mutters, still eyeing the glow of his screen as he scrolls through Ronin’s Instagram page. Tapping on the little blue badge beside the other man’s name, he quirks a brow. "Is that why you’ve got this thing?" he asks, turning the phone slightly to show Ronin, tone dry with just a hint of amusement. "Did you win some kind of online battle of wits to earn it, or is that just your war hero ribbon now?"
The sheepish warmth in Ronin’s voice catches him a little off guard, just enough for Remi to blink and glance up from his screen. It’s not what he expected. It’s...sweet, actually, which is probably why his laugh comes quieter, more genuine. "Oh, you mean leaving the hospital against the advice of your doctors?" he deadpans in response, sliding his tray a bit closer as he polishes off the last of his fries.
Ronin’s comment about social media earns a low murmur of "Title of your sex tape," between bites. He eats, chews, swallows, and lets the moment settle, trying to ignore whatever strange mixture of relief and tension he feels knowing that Isla hasn't yet started a witch hunt over the missing footage.
By the time he finishes, he leans back in his chair with a soft grunt of satisfaction, swiping a napkin across his mouth and hands. "You sure you’re up for getting your bike?" he asks, casting a sidelong glance toward Ronin. "We could always come back for it tomorrow." He pauses, then smirks. "You already fought the battle of Carrying Food to Table and held off the enemy online."
The sheepish warmth in Ronin’s voice catches him a little off guard, just enough for Remi to blink and glance up from his screen. It’s not what he expected. It’s...sweet, actually, which is probably why his laugh comes quieter, more genuine. "Oh, you mean leaving the hospital against the advice of your doctors?" he deadpans in response, sliding his tray a bit closer as he polishes off the last of his fries.
Ronin’s comment about social media earns a low murmur of "Title of your sex tape," between bites. He eats, chews, swallows, and lets the moment settle, trying to ignore whatever strange mixture of relief and tension he feels knowing that Isla hasn't yet started a witch hunt over the missing footage.
By the time he finishes, he leans back in his chair with a soft grunt of satisfaction, swiping a napkin across his mouth and hands. "You sure you’re up for getting your bike?" he asks, casting a sidelong glance toward Ronin. "We could always come back for it tomorrow." He pauses, then smirks. "You already fought the battle of Carrying Food to Table and held off the enemy online."
but there's a light in the attic and I swear it's calling me
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.
