we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead
If there's any space left between them he might eliminate, Ronin sinks into it eagerly, as if Remi's arms around him are permission to feel his feelings without apology or regret, if only because those emotions are a shared burden they both carry. His lips flinch into a smile at the sound of his husband's laughter, the Knight drawing the warmth from it however much it's a flimsy mask for the chill beneath, though he can't help but scoff in response to his remarks.
"I would never want to go back in time unless it was with you," he says confidently. "This version of you, the one who has seen it all the way I have. Otherwise what's to stop one of us making the same stupid mistakes all over again?" Without the other to temper them, it almost feels inevitable.
"It's you for me, sorry - this you. No other." Teasing his hand from Remi's curls to his cheek, Ronin tilts his head up gently and against his waiting lips, as if the kiss alone might stitch up the parts of them that are still frayed by the way things had gone.
"I would never want to go back in time unless it was with you," he says confidently. "This version of you, the one who has seen it all the way I have. Otherwise what's to stop one of us making the same stupid mistakes all over again?" Without the other to temper them, it almost feels inevitable.
"It's you for me, sorry - this you. No other." Teasing his hand from Remi's curls to his cheek, Ronin tilts his head up gently and against his waiting lips, as if the kiss alone might stitch up the parts of them that are still frayed by the way things had gone.
THE WHITE KNIGHT
and continue fighting
