quietmounds | (no subject)

(no subject)

WHAT IN PERSON, YA FOOLS
WHERE anywhere
WHEN Day 8, evening

[ it's beginning to be summer -- or something like that, sort of. late spring? the weather has been warming up is the point and in the twilight of, well, now, the fireflies have also come out.

twinkling little stars that are actually bugs. Rather, slightly larger than the normal firefly -- in fact, perhaps they seem more like will o' the wisp sized.

But still, a lovely summer. If you follow one they may lead you (crashing into) the path of someone else.

Or the lake.

Definitely also the lake. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[brushes Remus's hair back with both hands. then helps to wring it out]

. . . you're so beautiful. What am I supposed to do when I can't look at you?

I don't know. What did you do when you didn't know who I was?

[he's just gonna let Tristan do most of the legwork here, as he has more important things to do like not so subtly huff him]

Well, I can't say I enjoyed the experience.

[ok. fussing on him, helping dry him off]

Poor Tristan, your life is so hard.

[tries to say it in a teasing tone, but it comes out too sincere. why do things keep making my incubus sad.]

A little. But there are more nice things than I ever expected.

... mm. I know.

[lets get you hefted into bed, shall we?]

[sounds good, though, even after Tristan sets him down, Remus isn't letting go of him, overtly needy]

Ah—. . . hey.

[sinking down over him]

[not moving to kiss him, nuzzling at the side of his face again]

Hi. Hey. You're here.

You, too, seems like.

[voice a little thick]

I'm wondering a little about that, but sure. Anything's possible.

[sounding almost hoarse, exhaustion starting to creep back over him]

I'm pretty sure. You're here with me now.

And I seem normal? Not any deader than usual?

Were you. Expecting to be deader than usual, baby . . .?

Not so much that I'd use the word expecting, but it's been a while since I woke up in a cabbage patch at 9 am.

What happened? Since I last saw you . . .

[letting his head fall back to the pillow with a soft 'thump']

Stuff. Things. I picked a stupid fight with someone who can and will kill me.

Why'd you do that?

[stroking his hair]

I was very upset at him. That's something of an understatement.

I'd expect so . . .

[turning his gaze away from Tristan's face.]

Mm.

[. . . soft]

We don't have to talk about anything you don't want to.

[clearly hesitating before he answers]

Maybe later.

What do you need from me right now?