we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead
"You are very welcome," Ronin murmurs, his lips against the crook of Remi's neck; that is, until a helpful tentacle comes to feed him his breakfast. Straightening up only enough to eat without choking to death, his hands remain happily captured by his husband, the warmth between them seeming all the more delicious for the fresh breeze still sailing in through the open windows.
"Isn't that always the way?" he says with an exaggerated sigh, conjuring his duplicate to feed them their whiskey-tea (because that requires a little more finesse and opposable thumbs than tentacles). "It's as close to perfect as we've ever been, though. And once this has been done, we can spend another year away from everyone if it will help you to recharge. I'll have Sugar guard us against visitors."
"Isn't that always the way?" he says with an exaggerated sigh, conjuring his duplicate to feed them their whiskey-tea (because that requires a little more finesse and opposable thumbs than tentacles). "It's as close to perfect as we've ever been, though. And once this has been done, we can spend another year away from everyone if it will help you to recharge. I'll have Sugar guard us against visitors."
THE DARK STAR
and continue fighting
