VARUS
tell me father, which to ask forgiveness for?
what i am, or what i'm not?
what i am, or what i'm not?
“It helps.” He teases with a rumble of a grin. As for his arms, though, his brows rise in amusement, a dramatic flare overcoming his face as if he’s intrigued and somewhat surprised at the thought. “I dunno, I quite like this hand.” He was right-handed, after all, and the arm he’d lost had already been an adjustment enough. “We could always make a fake arm and send it off. Pretend, as we’ve become very good at.” A grin spreads now, thumb brushing along her jaw, before the hand slips to the back of her head.
He’s more than content to let her inspect his pockets, diving in and pressing a kiss to her before he pulls away and she makes extra sure his pocket is clear. “I’ll have you know the only blade I have on me right now is in my boot.” He says matter of factly – completely prepared to lift up his leg and show it off to her, should she ask. But their lips meet again and she’s mumbling into his lips and he squeezes her a bit tighter to him. “Want to go look at the torches, now? See what else that book has to say?” He suggests when he pulls away, nose brushing against hers, a soft glimmer to his blue gaze.
He’s more than content to let her inspect his pockets, diving in and pressing a kiss to her before he pulls away and she makes extra sure his pocket is clear. “I’ll have you know the only blade I have on me right now is in my boot.” He says matter of factly – completely prepared to lift up his leg and show it off to her, should she ask. But their lips meet again and she’s mumbling into his lips and he squeezes her a bit tighter to him. “Want to go look at the torches, now? See what else that book has to say?” He suggests when he pulls away, nose brushing against hers, a soft glimmer to his blue gaze.
tell me mother, which should i regret?
what i became, or what i didn't?
what i became, or what i didn't?
