RONIN
Well, these bunts are all for you, so I’m glad you like them,” Ronin says with a bright smile, pouring all of his concentration into the bunting to avoid looking at anything else (namely, the sketch of his husband and daughter). He swallows hard, and only when Remi speaks does he finally glance across, tears stinging his eyes as well at the look on the Alchemist’s face. Their fingers lace together, Ronin lifting their hands so he could kiss the back of Remi’s palm.
”Almost,” he whispers, scooting his chair across to press his lips to a stubbled cheek. ”It won’t ever be perfect, because she’s not here. But... almost.” With a sad laugh that barely counts as one, he lets out a shuddery breath and gazes down at the sketch at last, at the smiling face of their daughter. ”We’ll keep it,” he decides - rather than putting it on her grave, they can keep this small memento.
”Almost,” he whispers, scooting his chair across to press his lips to a stubbled cheek. ”It won’t ever be perfect, because she’s not here. But... almost.” With a sad laugh that barely counts as one, he lets out a shuddery breath and gazes down at the sketch at last, at the smiling face of their daughter. ”We’ll keep it,” he decides - rather than putting it on her grave, they can keep this small memento.
soft spoken with a broken jaw
we step outside, but not to brawl
we step outside, but not to brawl
