RONIN
THE FALLEN STAR
One look at Ronin would tell Remi that whatever little sense had crept into the hunter in their past few meetings was long gone. There was no recognition in his eyes that the man interrupting his meal was his husband, no indication that Remi was any different to any number of other interlopers in the woods. His movements were slow and jarring as he stepped over the corpse of the young deer, Ronin torn between going back to his meal and hoping the other man fucked off, and making sure he was gone for good.
"Flowers?" He almost spat the word, black eyes narrowing, blood dripping from his chin. "No flowers here. Go." It was a final demand, and the hands that clenched into fists and the tension that rippled along Ronin's shoulders showed a tiny string of restraint - one that would not take much to break.
"Flowers?" He almost spat the word, black eyes narrowing, blood dripping from his chin. "No flowers here. Go." It was a final demand, and the hands that clenched into fists and the tension that rippled along Ronin's shoulders showed a tiny string of restraint - one that would not take much to break.
now don’t you lose hope
I swear I never dream that we’re alone
I swear I still believe but I don’t know
