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    Summary

    Sylvain didn’t need to know about the hazy, drunken hours Dimitri had spent memorizing your face in the near dark, blanketed in your warmth and scent and the steady soft brush of each of your even breaths across his skin. Sylvain, in all of his grand speeches about appreciating beauty, couldn’t possibly understand what Dimitri meant when he spoke of the empty hunger he felt in the earliest hours of the morning as he admired the finer details of your body he had neglected the night before. There were so many things Dimitri had known and lost in his life, but this was a different sensation entirely. He did not know what it was to have you truly, yet he mourned the terrible ache of that loss just as acutely. Those were the tender feelings of a man. A man which he certainly was not.

    Series
    Language:
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