RONIN
the darkstar
light is easy to love.
"On my strait-jacket days, yes," he says with a mischievous nod, before smirking and giving an exaggerated shrug as if to say he can't help the level of fanciness in the launderette. "Ah, I'll trade in the flowers and the vanilla for rainy days next time, then." It would be a lie to say he doesn't find it endearing, the way Remi all but collapses into the bed, and as he's asked to join him, Ronin is heedless to resist even if it does mean going to get the door almost as soon as he gets comfortable.
He'd never expected to be climbing into bed with Bandcamp like this, the mechanic feeling hot all over suddenly, though he's still smiling as he shifts to get closer. Remi can settle against him today, given that he's been comparatively through the wars, and he fumbles for the remote so they can start to flick through the Netflix menu. "More serial killer documentaries?"
He'd never expected to be climbing into bed with Bandcamp like this, the mechanic feeling hot all over suddenly, though he's still smiling as he shifts to get closer. Remi can settle against him today, given that he's been comparatively through the wars, and he fumbles for the remote so they can start to flick through the Netflix menu. "More serial killer documentaries?"
show me your darkness.
