REMI
the lullaby
The woman laughs. She might once have been pretty, might still be capable of it too in the right light. Now she is just used. Still shapely enough, it isn't her sad eyes that men and women see when they take her to bed, so it hardly matters.
"Not yet. Like I said, he's demanding another since this one came down with a fainting spell." Huffing under her breath and pouring herself—and Finn—a drink, she just scowls and shakes her head. "He had her all bundled up in about a thousand blankets like he wanted her to sweat." Her upper lip curls. "Had his hands around her throat and her head between the slats of the headboard. Some fainting spell."
The sheerness of the silks Finn wears is almost enough to keep Remi rooted to the spot. He can see far more than he can handle through the blue material, and the insidious heat that tugs at the back of his thighs threatens to keep him rooted in place. It's the woman's description that frees him—he wanted her to sweat—it drawing images of his mother in her bed during her last days. Gaunt, pale, a small shadow in her many blankets. He thinks he might be sick, and though he doesn't want to move, if he's sick here, he'll undoubtedly be found.
So he hunkers down, moving as silently as he can manage in the direction Finn has motioned.
"Not yet. Like I said, he's demanding another since this one came down with a fainting spell." Huffing under her breath and pouring herself—and Finn—a drink, she just scowls and shakes her head. "He had her all bundled up in about a thousand blankets like he wanted her to sweat." Her upper lip curls. "Had his hands around her throat and her head between the slats of the headboard. Some fainting spell."
The sheerness of the silks Finn wears is almost enough to keep Remi rooted to the spot. He can see far more than he can handle through the blue material, and the insidious heat that tugs at the back of his thighs threatens to keep him rooted in place. It's the woman's description that frees him—he wanted her to sweat—it drawing images of his mother in her bed during her last days. Gaunt, pale, a small shadow in her many blankets. He thinks he might be sick, and though he doesn't want to move, if he's sick here, he'll undoubtedly be found.
So he hunkers down, moving as silently as he can manage in the direction Finn has motioned.
Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me
Code taken from Sky who is utter perfection
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.
