I swear I still believe but I don't know
”I’d like to see that too, because I’m not fit for much right now,” Ronin says through a breathless, airy chuckle, his words murmured sweetly against Remi’s shoulder, tasting salt and rain and heat in his skin. It hasn’t been all that long in the grand scheme of things, but it has felt like a lifetime and then some. More than Longnight has separated them for a long time, not reducing love and lust at all, instead wedging itself between their intimacy.
But Ronin is serious about his promise at the lighthouse - he will not look over his shoulder at his past any longer, regardless of the outcome of Safrin’s attempts to pull Vanya from the stars. His present is in his arms, flush against him; Remi is a force that is so powerful and yet at the same time infinitely fragile, and the world will have to get through Ronin to come anywhere near it.
Still panting for breath, Ronin happily sacrifices some of that recovery to press gentle kisses to the Alchemist’s stubbled cheek, head tilting to rest against a crown of wet curls. ”It hasn’t. Count on it from now on,” he says, a smile on his lips that just won’t leave. Remi releases his hand and the Star lets it ghost along his husband’s side, taking its time exploring nicks and scars and the contours of his body.
”You are perfect,” he whispers, eyes closing for a moment to try to burn this into his memories.
But Ronin is serious about his promise at the lighthouse - he will not look over his shoulder at his past any longer, regardless of the outcome of Safrin’s attempts to pull Vanya from the stars. His present is in his arms, flush against him; Remi is a force that is so powerful and yet at the same time infinitely fragile, and the world will have to get through Ronin to come anywhere near it.
Still panting for breath, Ronin happily sacrifices some of that recovery to press gentle kisses to the Alchemist’s stubbled cheek, head tilting to rest against a crown of wet curls. ”It hasn’t. Count on it from now on,” he says, a smile on his lips that just won’t leave. Remi releases his hand and the Star lets it ghost along his husband’s side, taking its time exploring nicks and scars and the contours of his body.
”You are perfect,” he whispers, eyes closing for a moment to try to burn this into his memories.
the dark star
