feel the rain from your grave

I've been sleepwalking, Too close to the fire
But it's the only place that I can hold you tight

It helps infinitely, not to feel the black, hungry tendrils of Ronin's cold fury like a caress against his skin, but still the lingering effects remain. The urge to rake his claws down flesh or the trunks of nearby trees or to splay himself across his husband's body with their fingers interlaced in the soil and nothing but bloody kisses between them.

Mmhmm. Remi agrees in a voice that sounds strained, despite the fact it takes no air to form his agreement. I do not see why not. Shaking his head slightly as if his dark thoughts might be dispatched like flies, Remi flexes his claws and begins to tear into the soft earth. It's a poor substitute for the resistance his body craves, but it serves as a good enough distraction for now.

You do not happen to know how deep graves are meant to be, do you?

the lullaby

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)