if you make it all wrong then i'll make it all right
He never would be observant. Perhaps now with such ferocious predators lurking just beneath his skin he wouldn't ever need to be. Which was of course all just to say that it was only until Ashe was lowering herself down into the underbrush beside him that he actually took notice of her.
A fleeting flash of embarassment streaked across his face for just a moment until his shattered gaze registered who it was (In Remi's strange new vision Ashe was like a high-contrast version of herself with skin like alabaster and hair like onyx. Her eyes were smudged stars in the canvas of her skin. Beautiful and terrifying to behold, like the storm she was), and then quickly his expression crumpled to reveal his actual feelings.
Despair. Failure. Heartache.
With a small smile Remi shook his head. Pulling out his sketch book he helplessly flipped through the pages, many of which were smeared with sweat and tears or both. "No it...it..." Was too fast. Too cunning. Too new and like nothing he'd seen. His fingers flipped to a page with an impressionistic drawing of his husband; jawline, eyes, hands. It showed the tremors, the darkness. In the margin were notes on his appetite, his mood. How he hadn't been sleeping, eating.
"It is killing him Ashe and..."
I can't stop it. No one knows what to do.
I can't lose him again.
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.
