RONIN
It's a very small cot that Ronin lays upon, as is usually the case in a soldier's barracks. Not the sort of thing he'd dream up for them. The room is exactly what Remi would have come to expect from the previous times the Star has conjured it up for them (should he be bothered to open his eyes); small but not cramped, furnished with a desk and writing implements, a wardrobe and trunk, a washing station and the bed.
Enough about that, though - the point is that for all of the compact order of the room, there's something very much out of place in it, and Ronin loves it more than he can say. He groans in his sleep as his husband tries to snuggle closer, shifting and fumbling to keep the blankets over them as he turns to bury his nose in soft curls, his arms working around the body draped over his.
The combined bodyheat alone is enough to almost have him lulling back off to sleep, though he's unable to shake the feeling that something is off. "I need to dream us a bigger bed," he says in a voice clogged by slumber.
Enough about that, though - the point is that for all of the compact order of the room, there's something very much out of place in it, and Ronin loves it more than he can say. He groans in his sleep as his husband tries to snuggle closer, shifting and fumbling to keep the blankets over them as he turns to bury his nose in soft curls, his arms working around the body draped over his.
The combined bodyheat alone is enough to almost have him lulling back off to sleep, though he's unable to shake the feeling that something is off. "I need to dream us a bigger bed," he says in a voice clogged by slumber.
don't close your eyes
something beautiful is still alive
something beautiful is still alive
