RONIN
the darkstar
light is easy to love.
Still pouting at Sugar (she's trilling in a way that sounds remarkably like a cackle, before going back to her temperature control), Ronin lets out a sigh that starts out as exasperated and ends in a distractible huff as his husband draws closer. "A huntsman's work is never done," he laments, following Remi's gaze down his arm at the tattoo of bruises that lurk there, even as he still rubs absently at his chilly nipple.
"And I know I should have. I was distracted." By the candy? Or the man making it? As blue eyes flick away from his arm to Remi's sugar-gin hands, Ronin can't help but reach out to encircle one of the alchemist's wrists, raising his fingers up so he can suck the sweetness from them. "Whatever you're making, it's delicious," he murmurs.
"And I know I should have. I was distracted." By the candy? Or the man making it? As blue eyes flick away from his arm to Remi's sugar-gin hands, Ronin can't help but reach out to encircle one of the alchemist's wrists, raising his fingers up so he can suck the sweetness from them. "Whatever you're making, it's delicious," he murmurs.
show me your darkness.
