On This Night

"Mhmm." Remi whispered into the coppery layers of Sam's hair. "I would not be sitting with you now had you not been with me in the forest after all." Remi tried not to frown as Sam again mentioned being normal. Instead he just tapped out a silent rhythm against his shoulder, leaning his cheek against the side of his head as he listened. He wanted to say something in response, something like well I guess I'm not normal then either, or normal is boring, but that was easy for him to say. He had wings with which to fly, and relatively few drawbacks from being what he was, especially in a world that no longer condemned it. The same apparently couldn't be said for Sam, and Remi knew it. "Well.." Remi whispered with a small smile. "I suppose when we defeat the creature, we will have to see what the gods can do." Looking down where Sam's fingers drew invisible images on his leg, Remi inhaled a shallow and shaky breath as he considered. "Sam?" He asked, waiting for the bookmaker's eyes to reach his own. Remi knew he needed to explain..that he needed to clarify some of the things on his heart and his mind. To talk more openly about what had happened in the cave, in the infirmary room, in the hall of the sanctuary. He hadn't been ignorant of the amount of times Sam had mentioned them as a we, and how necessarily he'd been forced to trail off into uncertainty, with Remi offering him absolutely no guidance or help. There were things he needed to say, about Loren and Northaven if only so that Sam might understand his hesitations, his worries and doubts. But as the ascended's clear and steely gaze met his own, the words fell away and all he could see was Sam. His lips fell open slightly and all he wanted to do was to take the hand gently tracing patterns on his knee and thrust it above Sam's head to pin him against the bed, to press kisses in places he hadn't been able to in the infirmary. Instead of saying all the things he should have said—that he needed to say—instead he whispered: "I want you, Sam," while his hand settled on Sam's thigh. Though unlike the ascended, the attuned's fingers did not trace patterns, but instead softly gripped, his fingertips fluttering higher, as Remi drew a slow breath the belayed the willpower he currently employed. remi Come on skinny love just last the year Pour a little salt we were never here