there is always hope
Ronin is practiced at not being worried when his husband goes out at all hours, at all times, when the world outside has informed them that it is dangerous. He’s got the pulse of the heartbeat on his finger to guide him and reassure him (and okay, so it’s been rocketing and stuttering for the past however long, and yeah, that’s fucking horrible), and the Alchemist has been chosen by Ludo. He’s fine. Probably fine. Sure.
The Dark Star is curled up on the couch before the fire. He’s not reading the book in his lap. He’s not even reading the comic he snuck into the book in his lap (so he could pretend he was being intellectual). Instead his blue eyes are fixed on the dancing flames, and Sugar has awoken from her place in the rafters to peer down at him, his concern a pin prickle that scurries down both of their spines.
The Dark Star is curled up on the couch before the fire. He’s not reading the book in his lap. He’s not even reading the comic he snuck into the book in his lap (so he could pretend he was being intellectual). Instead his blue eyes are fixed on the dancing flames, and Sugar has awoken from her place in the rafters to peer down at him, his concern a pin prickle that scurries down both of their spines.
