I will fight the end
Remi's sharp elbow gets Ronin right in one of the only soft places left on him (which is most likely the alchemist's entire intention), and he lets out an oof that is both understanding and a touch guilty. "Sorry," he murmurs, taking a deep breath and letting it out again, allowing his thoughts to settle back on the conversation at hand. And it turns out that it's quite easy to do, in fact, what with how Remi's sudden and adorable delight.
"It would be my honour to help her to find somewhere to live. And that, dearest husband, is not a crock of shit," he informs him, brightening as the Pacifist Plaza slowly comes into view in the distance. The urge just to fly in through the window of the apartment is almost overwhelming, which is precisely why Ronin doesn't. It's good for them, he's learned, to be patient. To work for things.
"I think it just might be," Ronin says of the dinner, grinning to Remi. "Would you like to practice your penmanship and write her a formal invitation?"
"It would be my honour to help her to find somewhere to live. And that, dearest husband, is not a crock of shit," he informs him, brightening as the Pacifist Plaza slowly comes into view in the distance. The urge just to fly in through the window of the apartment is almost overwhelming, which is precisely why Ronin doesn't. It's good for them, he's learned, to be patient. To work for things.
"I think it just might be," Ronin says of the dinner, grinning to Remi. "Would you like to practice your penmanship and write her a formal invitation?"
'til the end is here
