in these trying times we're not trying

maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane

Remi's smile only tugs at half of his face, one side with a smile and a dimple, while the other remains wary and apologetic. He's far too modest and uncomfortable with what he can do to utter the predictable, Oh that's nothing. You should see what else I can do, and so he just nods again. As she curls herself around him, his lashes flutter with the flood of new sensation, before finally slipping closed as he tries to sort through it all. To him, she is like a well-made vessel, sea-ready and worthy as any ship might be. She knows the waters in which she leads them, but her confidence doesn't make her any less adjustable for her skill. It's that above all else, he's drawn to.

There's something important, about figuring out what is happening with Isla, and perhaps it's because of his newfound solidity with Ronin that Remi feels comfortable enough to explore what it might be. Did he ever think that was going to include stripping naked and getting into a bathtub with a complete stranger? No; for all his creativity, no, his mind would have never imagined this.

Looking at her through furrowed brows, Remi pulls in a breath at her question, trying to relax. His fingertips slide from her waist, trailing across her belly where the sash of her robe is tied. The alchemist doesn't seek out her green stare for permission, knowing that he had it already. 'Well, with another man sleeping just on the other side of this screen, I can't say it is my first choice." Remi admits in a low voice, his broad shoulders shrugging. "But you asked me to trust you."

THE LULLABY

maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing