the things we hold are always the first to go
”I try. Sometimes you’re not in a dessert mood, though.” His voice is teasing, and though he really might make a nuisance of himself on an ordinary day, Ronin is too amused by the sound of whatever-the-fuck is happening in the bathroom to cause any trouble. The Lullaby’s weight on the bed is enough to rock the Star a bit, and he’s chuckling even as he’s given permission to look.
Peeling off the blindfold, Ronin is greeted with a rather artistic mess, and for a second he’s actually more taken by the sight of Remi and the mirror. (They should install one on their ceiling one of these days). Squinting, a grin creeps across his face as he notes the sea, their house, some cheerios steps along his abs, and... stripy, furry leaves. Still, the Star thinks he gets it, and flicks his gaze up to his husband.
”Remi Taliesin,” he says solemnly, ”it would be my honour to join you on an erutnevda. When do we leave?”
Peeling off the blindfold, Ronin is greeted with a rather artistic mess, and for a second he’s actually more taken by the sight of Remi and the mirror. (They should install one on their ceiling one of these days). Squinting, a grin creeps across his face as he notes the sea, their house, some cheerios steps along his abs, and... stripy, furry leaves. Still, the Star thinks he gets it, and flicks his gaze up to his husband.
”Remi Taliesin,” he says solemnly, ”it would be my honour to join you on an erutnevda. When do we leave?”
