we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead
Ronin can’t give back what was taken away. He can’t stop Remi’s anger, and nor does he want to. So he merely breathes out a long and deep sigh, giving his husband’s hand a squeeze, holding it firmly in his own, and lets the fingers of his free hand gently caress through the feathers that have started to spring through soft curls. On the back of the couch Sugar stirs as well, crooning across to the Alchemist in what almost sounds like an agreement with his assessment of the situation: fuck indeed.
”You know,” Ronin says quietly, ”I think I’d like that a lot.” But before he can gather Remi up in his arms and make off with him, the subject has moved to his dreams, and its with a heavy sense of guilt that he nods to the other man. ”Nothing like before,” he says, sounding tired, bemused. ”She’s watching, it feels like. But I’m facing... a trial, or something. It’s like a gladiator’s arena.”
Sitting back a fraction, he holds out his forearms for Remi to see. In the light of the fire, the constellations are bright and glittering and prominent against his skin.
”You know,” Ronin says quietly, ”I think I’d like that a lot.” But before he can gather Remi up in his arms and make off with him, the subject has moved to his dreams, and its with a heavy sense of guilt that he nods to the other man. ”Nothing like before,” he says, sounding tired, bemused. ”She’s watching, it feels like. But I’m facing... a trial, or something. It’s like a gladiator’s arena.”
Sitting back a fraction, he holds out his forearms for Remi to see. In the light of the fire, the constellations are bright and glittering and prominent against his skin.
THE DARK STAR
and continue fighting
