Reverse bear trap

Ronin’s blue eyes widen a fraction despite the mischievous sheen to his husband’s thoughts, and as he turns (after prancing), it’s to pull and draw Remi up against his chest as if they are about to ballroom dance. ”There will never be a day when I grow bored of you,” he rumbles, his fingers splaying and spidering up the length of the Lullaby’s spine. ”And I know you know that, but I am going to remind you whenever I can regardless.” All of that is to say that yes, Ronin absolutely is getting sentimental in his old age, and he cares not a jot about it. Turning with reluctance to continue walking, if only because it means he has to downgrade his affections from an embrace back to hand holding, the laugh the Huntsman lets out is equal parts amusement and nostalgia. ”Ah, the Sea of Branches was never quite the same after that,” he says on the heel of a sigh, only to find himself surprised at Remi’s agreement. ”I would really like that,” he says. ”We’ll go hunting and make a fire. Maybe even tell some ghost stories.” RONIN Darkness is a funny thing. It creeps up on you.