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his midnight hair spills over like the river styx
twisted, like tendrils of ink in oil
his amber eyes pierce into mine
his gaze throws daggers into my heart
i can't help but hold it
"sylvain." he speaks my name like it is holy
"felix." his name is nectar on my sinful tongue
his hand traces the scars that dance on my freckled skin
his fingertips know my flesh and bone better than i ever will
moonlight flickers across the raised skin
amber meets honey
i study the face that i know by memory
i hear his breath
steady, steady, steady
he lives
his hand presses to my skin
warm, gentle
he is always gentle
he always was
before he built the walls around his heart
he still is
in his touch, in his actions
his words cut deep
his touch heals tenderly
"sylvain." my name spills from his lips, colored with fondness
warmth pools behind my eyes
his hand gently takes my face
"felix."
his smile outshines the moon that pools in the room
his lips are soft when they press to mine
sickly sweet
he holds me tight
i can feel his underlying fear
i feel it in the way his fingers press into my back
the way he leans closer
"we'll make it out of this, fe."
"don't make promises you can't keep."
"i'm not."
he tenses in my embrace
i cradle him with the gentleness of a lover
"you know i don't make promises i can't keep."
"we're in a war."
"i know."
wetness blooms on my shoulder
he doesn't shake
he stills, listening
"i won't die. neither of us will. i'll make sure of it."
his hand settles on my chest
i hold it there
his palm presses to the skin that stretches over my ribs
i know he is afraid
"die before me, and i'll kill you."
"i won't, fe. i won't."