the wounds are open and bleeding out
"Oh, I think the witch lives in the house," Ronin says, grinning as he watches the wine pour in an exact line into Remi's mouth. He can't resist sticking his tongue out to interrupt the stream and steal some of the wine, though he makes up for it by conjuring some sugared segments of fruit into his husband's lap for them to snack on. With another wine-stained kiss to the alchemist's cheek, Ronin settles back and gazes down at the book.
"I imagine we can make her a good witch," he suggests, though for now the story begins with the children, the woods, the trail of breadcrumbs. And Ronin begins to tell the story in a low, sweet voice, his head tilting to rest against Remi's, his accent lilting around the words. The only thing missing, really, is Mateo, and he might just be able to pretend that this is entirely the real world.
"I imagine we can make her a good witch," he suggests, though for now the story begins with the children, the woods, the trail of breadcrumbs. And Ronin begins to tell the story in a low, sweet voice, his head tilting to rest against Remi's, his accent lilting around the words. The only thing missing, really, is Mateo, and he might just be able to pretend that this is entirely the real world.
THE
DARK STAR
