now there's a space too wide
Sam pulled away and Remi leaned forward, without thought or hesitation until his mind, delayed and jostled, realized what he'd done. Close enough now that were Sam the sort of normal he'd always striven to be, Remi would be able to feel the heat of his body wafting against the alchemist's bare arms. As it was that heat would only go one way, as would the rushing of blood both up and down in Remi's body, and the way he could hear his own heart thundering a discordant beat in his ears.
Turning his head slightly, frozen in a moment of indecision, had Sam not moved again, the straightening of Remi's head would have placed his mouth only a fraction of an inch away from Sam's, his nose nearly close enough to touch against the bookmakers, their combined unshaven features bristling and touching.
If Remi could, he would force Sam to remain locked in that moment with him fleeting as it was, if only through sheer force of will. Inhaling a shaky and shallow breath, Remi looked down slightly as if he might be able to see their lips so near to one another. He couldn't of course, but it was as if he could, and his eyebrows flexed and danced to the words of a conversation Remi was silently having with himself.
He wanted to kiss Sam. More than that, honestly. It was only a lifetime of restraint that held the alchemist so near and yet un-touching. The bookmaker's strange pull of him was as present as it always had been...
..and that was precisely the problem.
That Remi would forgive so easily after so a horrendous a thing was done to him was laughable. It was embarrassing and demeaning, and yet as his tongue lingered just behind his bottom lip and his mind recalled what it had been like to kiss the bookmaker before, he felt something inside of him wilt and sadly bend, like a sapling during a freeze.
"I just wish you had not done it." Remi said, the words whisper soft though it hardly mattered for Sam was so close. Kiss him, his body whined, and deep in the pit of his stomach something warm coiled and begged. But he couldn't. Not again. Much as he wanted to, his words were his true desire.
I wish you had not done it. I wish you had not forgotten me.
And so Remi left.
Turning his head slightly, frozen in a moment of indecision, had Sam not moved again, the straightening of Remi's head would have placed his mouth only a fraction of an inch away from Sam's, his nose nearly close enough to touch against the bookmakers, their combined unshaven features bristling and touching.
If Remi could, he would force Sam to remain locked in that moment with him fleeting as it was, if only through sheer force of will. Inhaling a shaky and shallow breath, Remi looked down slightly as if he might be able to see their lips so near to one another. He couldn't of course, but it was as if he could, and his eyebrows flexed and danced to the words of a conversation Remi was silently having with himself.
He wanted to kiss Sam. More than that, honestly. It was only a lifetime of restraint that held the alchemist so near and yet un-touching. The bookmaker's strange pull of him was as present as it always had been...
..and that was precisely the problem.
That Remi would forgive so easily after so a horrendous a thing was done to him was laughable. It was embarrassing and demeaning, and yet as his tongue lingered just behind his bottom lip and his mind recalled what it had been like to kiss the bookmaker before, he felt something inside of him wilt and sadly bend, like a sapling during a freeze.
"I just wish you had not done it." Remi said, the words whisper soft though it hardly mattered for Sam was so close. Kiss him, his body whined, and deep in the pit of his stomach something warm coiled and begged. But he couldn't. Not again. Much as he wanted to, his words were his true desire.
I wish you had not done it. I wish you had not forgotten me.
And so Remi left.
that's left us with wondering eyes
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
