i've hidden all my fears in a book for only my eyes to see
Not unlike when he was younger, Remi takes the opportunity while Ronin's eyes are averted to soak in all the details of his husband that he's been trying not to linger on. The Star's hair is shorter for being an active soldier now, and Remi can't quite decide if he likes it more this way or not. It's certainly more serious and suave, but there doesn't seem to be as much to tousle. Not that Remi's fingers are planning on being anywhere near it, for the time being.
"A robe?" Remi repeats, assuming the basket is for Ronin giving the wrapping, and wondering why a robe was part of it. Quickly his senses are filled with the moment though, as they step inside. It's as dusty and pleasantly warm within as it had been before, but Remi too can feel that something is different too, even if he can't quite name it.
"Well, you're more familiar with tiny cocktail-sized things than I am." The alchemist chuckles under his breath; it's a good thing he hadn't said anything more, because the look Ronin gives him, casual as it might be, is enough to utterly weaken his knees.
"Home?" Remi whispers, trying it out. This would be the second place they've picked out together, their home during his stint as Governor being the first, but this...gods but it felt so different. Setting the basket down on the counter and biting the inside of his cheek, Remi turns toward the stare with flushed cheeks and eyes that can't stare into Ronin's for long. To hug, or not to hug? To kiss? It all felt hopelessly complicated and stupid in all the right ways that for a long moment the alchemist couldn't say much of anything at all, for how tongue-tied he'd made himself. Eventually, his fingers stretch out that they might softly take Ronin's. "Home." He agrees finally.
Then, "We've been here all of thirty seconds and it's already filthy."
"A robe?" Remi repeats, assuming the basket is for Ronin giving the wrapping, and wondering why a robe was part of it. Quickly his senses are filled with the moment though, as they step inside. It's as dusty and pleasantly warm within as it had been before, but Remi too can feel that something is different too, even if he can't quite name it.
"Well, you're more familiar with tiny cocktail-sized things than I am." The alchemist chuckles under his breath; it's a good thing he hadn't said anything more, because the look Ronin gives him, casual as it might be, is enough to utterly weaken his knees.
"Home?" Remi whispers, trying it out. This would be the second place they've picked out together, their home during his stint as Governor being the first, but this...gods but it felt so different. Setting the basket down on the counter and biting the inside of his cheek, Remi turns toward the stare with flushed cheeks and eyes that can't stare into Ronin's for long. To hug, or not to hug? To kiss? It all felt hopelessly complicated and stupid in all the right ways that for a long moment the alchemist couldn't say much of anything at all, for how tongue-tied he'd made himself. Eventually, his fingers stretch out that they might softly take Ronin's. "Home." He agrees finally.
Then, "We've been here all of thirty seconds and it's already filthy."
THE
ALCHEMIST
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.
