and on to the glory at my right hand
Remi doesn't come to him, so Ronin goes to the alchemist instead. Truly, there's nothing in the world that could stop him (except, perhaps, the things he doesn't know - and there are so many things that Ronin doesn't know). "Hey--" He slouches into the water accidentally, where it rushes above his waist, but the Huntsman drags himself out of its depths enough to reach where Remi is trembling and retching into the river.
"Hey, I'm here." It's nothing, for Ronin to sweep down and draw Remi up against his chest. That raw feeling in the back of his throat hasn't gone away at all, and there's a curious, creeping sort of dread that has started to prickle up the back of his neck. But Ronin ignores it for his husband, his blue eyes widening a fraction as he holds him out of the water. "Are they alright?" he asks, clearly not associating the word with more than one. He assumes not, from the state of Remi, and Ronin bites his lip hard enough that it bleeds, to stop from feeling glad about it.
"Hey, I'm here." It's nothing, for Ronin to sweep down and draw Remi up against his chest. That raw feeling in the back of his throat hasn't gone away at all, and there's a curious, creeping sort of dread that has started to prickle up the back of his neck. But Ronin ignores it for his husband, his blue eyes widening a fraction as he holds him out of the water. "Are they alright?" he asks, clearly not associating the word with more than one. He assumes not, from the state of Remi, and Ronin bites his lip hard enough that it bleeds, to stop from feeling glad about it.
ronin
