Frey’s expression softens into something deeply pleased as Sunjata folds himself against them, the gratitude in his voice settling warmly beneath their skin like sunlight sinking into dark water. One of their hands slides briefly through his hair again, slow and indulgent, before they simply nod, as though this—his trust, his devotion, the way he reaches for them so instinctively now—is exactly what they’d expected all along. "Good," they murmur softly, the word threaded through with approval more than command.
Then they lean forward once more, though this time the touch is gentler, almost startlingly so, their lips brushing against the centre of his forehead in a kiss that feels warm enough to seep all the way through him.
And just like that, they’re gone; dissolving from around him in a rush of warm wind scented faintly of ripe fruit, crushed herbs, and skin heated beneath summer sun, the shrine exhaling softly in their wake as the chimes begin to stir again overhead.
~FIN
Then they lean forward once more, though this time the touch is gentler, almost startlingly so, their lips brushing against the centre of his forehead in a kiss that feels warm enough to seep all the way through him.
And just like that, they’re gone; dissolving from around him in a rush of warm wind scented faintly of ripe fruit, crushed herbs, and skin heated beneath summer sun, the shrine exhaling softly in their wake as the chimes begin to stir again overhead.
~FIN
