you're the waves at my feet

please just don't forget me Ronin believes it when Remi says it, smiling against his curls where he’s let his head loll against the other man’s, and he drifts until his back is against a broad expanse of hot stone, settling there to relax with his husband in his arms. He continues to fuss over the wings as they talk and unwind, having precious little chance himself to explore them. They’re an area of the Lullaby as of yet untouched, and Ronin is keen to rectify this at the first opportunity. He feels Remi smile rather than sees it, scrunching his nose at the realisation. ”It’s called Frey’s Breath,” he points out. ”I’d hope that means it’s kept clean and sanitary by... god magic. Frey magic.” And he’ll keep fucking hoping, put it that way. Both hands are inspecting wings by now, and Ronin raises a brow as something catches in the corner of his eye. ”Another lily,” he remarks.