REMI
if you're not going to swim deep with me
As soon as Remi feels her body grow limp and shift, he follows. It's strange the way they are intertwined; legs wrapped tightly around one another, her hands against his chest and his pulling her close. Stranger still that though she is the one who is dead, he is the one cut and bloody. Letting himself find his breath with Delah's small form still against his, he considers what he might say, what apologies might be whispered into her dark hair. Only then does he realize that her soul is likely tea bagging glaring at him in that moment.
As the blood lust begins to fade, his wounds scream their fury. Groaning as he sits up, he glances down to find his shirt almost entirely torn and blood-stained. Heaving a sigh, he stood, leaning down to pick up the fae in his arms. She weighed hardly anything, despite her larger than life presence, and again the need to say something to commemorate the moment balled up in the back of his throat.
As the blood lust begins to fade, his wounds scream their fury. Groaning as he sits up, he glances down to find his shirt almost entirely torn and blood-stained. Heaving a sigh, he stood, leaning down to pick up the fae in his arms. She weighed hardly anything, despite her larger than life presence, and again the need to say something to commemorate the moment balled up in the back of his throat.
get out of my waters
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.
