the things we hold are always the first to go
”Gods, of course I did,” Ronin says with a boyish grin, exhaling a deep sigh and casting his mind back to those first weeks. ”I didn’t know who I was, what I wanted to be, if I cared about the things I used to care about...” He shakes his head. ”It fucks you up, Remi. Though I guess you know that all too well.” With warm eyes, he smiles back to his husband, only to playfully scrunch his nose at the implications about the silver in his tongue. ”You wouldn’t even have to ask,” he informs the other man, voice lowering.
He turns to kiss the hand that comes to rest on his shoulder, fingers caressing the back of Remi’s palm. He hasn’t been buttering him up one bit, but Ronin is learning something, too, from this exchange. That maybe it’s nice, to have a line not worth crossing. It’s nice to be wanted above others; nice to be someone’s only. ”Maybe it will,” he says of Ludo’s challenge. ”No good being a hand of mercy for a god when you don’t care about anything. How’s it going, by the way? Found anyone worthy of your tears?”
He turns to kiss the hand that comes to rest on his shoulder, fingers caressing the back of Remi’s palm. He hasn’t been buttering him up one bit, but Ronin is learning something, too, from this exchange. That maybe it’s nice, to have a line not worth crossing. It’s nice to be wanted above others; nice to be someone’s only. ”Maybe it will,” he says of Ludo’s challenge. ”No good being a hand of mercy for a god when you don’t care about anything. How’s it going, by the way? Found anyone worthy of your tears?”
