now there's a space too wide
The alchemist shrugged helplessly. "You will have to ask him that yourself." He replied with a lopsided smile.
"You do not have to—" Remi began, a lump forming instantly in his throat as Sam's not-quite-warm hand slipped into his own. The words died on his lips and instead a soft O-shaped puff of air staggered out as his fingers wrapped around Sam's and the muscles of his arm tensed as he pulled the smaller man up. That tension spread, Remi's forearm tightening as he stood slightly straighter, his gaze levelled at the shock of copper hair as Sam stood and rose towards him.
Then, in the moment where Remi was meant to finish his sentence, to say...—thank me, he found himself all together too close to Sam and a strange sort of tunnel vision set in. All he could see were freckles and pale lashes, lips not quite as red as they should have been due to the lack of blood, and the sensation of Sam's hand still in his own. Eyes unknowingly focused on Sam's lips, Remi's mind faraway in a land of confusion and white noise that made it hard to think, he watched as Sam looked down, presumably at their hands, and then—
—Remi's hand was empty, and Sam's were upon the ladder.
"You could have hurt yourself." The alchemist said, taking a half step back and running a hand through his hair as he looked up at the ladder, at the books, at anywhere that was not Sam. One side of Remi's lip winced upwards as the bookmaker said that he'd expected the alchemist to never speak to him again, and Remi's eyes fell slowly to the floor as he exhaled a sort of weary and sad note.
"No, I owe you an apology. You seem to catch me at times where...I am not particularly proud of how I acted towards you." Sam would only remember just the once, but that did not mean that there wasn't more for the alchemist to apologize for.
"You do not have to—" Remi began, a lump forming instantly in his throat as Sam's not-quite-warm hand slipped into his own. The words died on his lips and instead a soft O-shaped puff of air staggered out as his fingers wrapped around Sam's and the muscles of his arm tensed as he pulled the smaller man up. That tension spread, Remi's forearm tightening as he stood slightly straighter, his gaze levelled at the shock of copper hair as Sam stood and rose towards him.
Then, in the moment where Remi was meant to finish his sentence, to say...—thank me, he found himself all together too close to Sam and a strange sort of tunnel vision set in. All he could see were freckles and pale lashes, lips not quite as red as they should have been due to the lack of blood, and the sensation of Sam's hand still in his own. Eyes unknowingly focused on Sam's lips, Remi's mind faraway in a land of confusion and white noise that made it hard to think, he watched as Sam looked down, presumably at their hands, and then—
—Remi's hand was empty, and Sam's were upon the ladder.
"You could have hurt yourself." The alchemist said, taking a half step back and running a hand through his hair as he looked up at the ladder, at the books, at anywhere that was not Sam. One side of Remi's lip winced upwards as the bookmaker said that he'd expected the alchemist to never speak to him again, and Remi's eyes fell slowly to the floor as he exhaled a sort of weary and sad note.
"No, I owe you an apology. You seem to catch me at times where...I am not particularly proud of how I acted towards you." Sam would only remember just the once, but that did not mean that there wasn't more for the alchemist to apologize for.
that's left us with wondering eyes
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
