I don't know who I am, I don't know who I'll be
"Sorry," Remi exhales hastily, the word slipping out beneath the last of the adrenaline as his eyes flick toward the table and then back again. His hands are already reaching for Ronin in answer, palms finding whatever they can of him first with the same instinct that has his husband checking him over. There’s a boyish smile tugging at Remi’s mouth by the time their fingers meet. "I’m fine. You?"
At Ronin’s description, Remi huffs under his breath, shaking his head. "Literally," he mutters, because nightmare seems less like a comparison and more like an origin point. "I used my pixiu shift thinking maybe it was some sort of spirit, but I was able to bite into it easily enough." His fingers tighten briefly against Ronin before he glances past him, as if the desert might still be waiting somewhere in the seams of the kitchen. "I saw Kai there," he says, the sleep having been burned away from his voice now, replaced by something lower and more focused. "But not Flora. Did you see her?"
At Ronin’s description, Remi huffs under his breath, shaking his head. "Literally," he mutters, because nightmare seems less like a comparison and more like an origin point. "I used my pixiu shift thinking maybe it was some sort of spirit, but I was able to bite into it easily enough." His fingers tighten briefly against Ronin before he glances past him, as if the desert might still be waiting somewhere in the seams of the kitchen. "I saw Kai there," he says, the sleep having been burned away from his voice now, replaced by something lower and more focused. "But not Flora. Did you see her?"
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.
