young and menace

REMI

the alchemist

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

The Remi who had once landed on the shores of Northaven, alone and enlisted in a war he had no business being in, had never wished for strength or power. He'd never wished for infamy or for some one-word title to be known by. That man hadn't even wished for a house larger than the little one-room flat he'd been given, or even for some small sense of security against the vandals and thieves that prowled through the cheaper housing districts. All that man had ever wanted was a quiet place in which he could be himself, and, when he was feeling foolish and selfish enough, to dream of a man like Ronin to be there with him.

Now, with precisely that man gazing down at him with eyes the colour of which he'd never been able to replicate, the Lullaby's utter loss for words is the reason why his fingers begin to flinch and shiver as his body longs to make up for all the things his mouth can't articulate with sounds.

"Ahh," Remi chuckles, his smile turning boyish and slanted. "But if you were finished off, then I would have nothing to work on." He murmurs as he slowly rises, allowing his body to press against every inch of his husband's body on his ascent. 'As you said, you are a work in progress.' Remi concludes as he cages Ronin's body between his and the kitchen table.

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

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!