cinders and smoke

RONIN if there's one thing i'm good at, it's surviving Ronin went to speak, then thought better of the words, nodding to Remi. "No, you're right. I should have been more honest. I tried, I think - when we spoke about not mentioning her - but I was just trying to cling on to what I had." To cling on to you, even if it meant pretending. "And then when Safrin came to the beach..." He scowled and looked away, the memory of the goddess's arms around him, the sensation of weightlessness and remorse still too close for comfort. "I didn't talk about that either, did I?" Remi let his hand go and Ronin rubbed at his eyes, feeling a million miles away from the man he loved. "No, of course I'm not. I'm comparing how you wouldn't give up on me, even at my worst, to the way I feel about you right now." Even if Remi was never the same. Even if he never so much as smiled in his direction. As long as he was happy Ronin didn't care. But that was the thing - Remi wasn't happy. But he didn't want to die, either. Apparently. Ronin smiled sadly down at the sand, shrugging his shoulders at the alchemist. "Then I will carry you forever," he said simply, honestly, nodding even in agreement with the petty barb flung his way. "I was gone. But I had been gone for a long time before then - I'm back now, though, and I'm not leaving you." Running gentle fingers across the sand, Ronin chewed at his lower lip. "Without you holding me down I'd have flown into the sun years ago," he said. "I'm the sort of person who needs an anchor, Remi. And that's you for me."