RONIN
Ronin shudders in a breath to feel the ankles lock around him, anchoring him against Remi in a way that feels simultaneously familiar and completely new. He lets his fingers drift down towards the hem of the alchemist's shirt, enjoying the way the fabric hugs his form, the warmth of his skin as the Huntsman's fingers slip beneath it. With almost exquisite gentleness, he leans in to brush his nose against Remi's, a warm and crooked smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"There is actually a bar," he says through a soft laugh. "Though it is by the river, so I suppose it counts as both?" His hands are straying further quite without his permission, and his back arches at the sudden press of talons and feathers. "What do you say?" he asks. "Want to make time with me, getting drunk by the river?"
"There is actually a bar," he says through a soft laugh. "Though it is by the river, so I suppose it counts as both?" His hands are straying further quite without his permission, and his back arches at the sudden press of talons and feathers. "What do you say?" he asks. "Want to make time with me, getting drunk by the river?"
a star in someone else's sky
