looks like morning in your eyes

that's the thing about pain // it demands to be felt

With one hand clasped possessively against Ronin's lower back and the other twined tightly into the Huntsman's dark hair, Remi is able to simultaneously soften in the places his husband claws at, and yet brace against the underlying darkness. This flavour of Ronin is rare; one that the Lullaby would quickly drown himself in if given the chance. Fire can't kill either of us, he thinks of the world burning, as his tongue writes slanderous comments about the state of things against Ronin's.

Feeling a quickening blackness beginning to branch out inside of his mind, coating his better judgement that tells him not to fan this particular flame, Remi is vaguely aware of the feathers that trickle down his spine and into his curls. Ronin will feel them too beneath his fingers which will lose their grip on Remi's hair as the feathers are inadvertently plucked.

THE

ALCHEMIST

Table coding by Sky