we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead
"Yeah?" Ronin's mouth quirks up in a smirk. "I feel like I melt more into a puddle now when I look at you than I ever did before." And he's not sorry about it either, leaning in to brush his nose against Remi's before settling back to hear him out properly. His eyes narrow playfully as he watches those vibrant greens flick up towards his temples, the Knight swatting at his husband even before he truly realises what he's saying.
"That is from stress rather than age," he snips immediately, despite the fact that he is, in fact, inching closer to forty than he ever thought he'd be alive to see possible. Closer but not there, though, and as it slowly dawns on him, what Remi might tentatively be offering up, he feels more boyish than ever. Blinking dumbly for a second, like he's misheard the things the Bastion is and isn't saying, eventually Ronin huffs out a disbelieving laugh.
"Remi," he says, his tone gently chastising but also a little puzzled, as if begging him to be serious about this.
"That is from stress rather than age," he snips immediately, despite the fact that he is, in fact, inching closer to forty than he ever thought he'd be alive to see possible. Closer but not there, though, and as it slowly dawns on him, what Remi might tentatively be offering up, he feels more boyish than ever. Blinking dumbly for a second, like he's misheard the things the Bastion is and isn't saying, eventually Ronin huffs out a disbelieving laugh.
"Remi," he says, his tone gently chastising but also a little puzzled, as if begging him to be serious about this.
THE WHITE KNIGHT
and continue fighting
