the break of day

REMI

the alchemist

What good are hands
if there's nothing that they hold

'Just a bath, then.' Remi agrees, and if there's any wickedness in his voice (the flare of emotions that had accompanied Ronin's consideration of masking his injuries with sex hadn't gone unnoticed, after all), Remi tries to hide it with a smile.

Tensing as the words I was going to die echo through his thoughts, Remi has to carefully keep his fingers still lest he grips his husband too tightly. "I guess this is where we are now." He observes in a stony voice. "Midnight attacks, unfair odds, dead civilians." No small part of him wants to seek immediate revenge on the ascended, though really it's just Wessex and Amun. There's a quip on his tongue about how surprising it was that it hadn't been him who had started the war early, but he swallows it down in lieu of kissing the Huntsman.

"Do you trust them to take watch?" Nodding his head towards where dragoons and medical personnel were lingering around the ruined Tower, Remi raises a brow. "I can always project myself here so that you do not have to think about it?"

And what good are hearts
if you bury them all alone?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!