Work Text:
He was different, not only in appearance but personality. The way he hung his head as low as the ground, he’d sunk to. His hair despite his age was tinted with a mesh of grey almost to display the wisdom and early curse of Orpheus. His sound was resilient but far away. He looked at Ryou as if he were the stars, far away and radiant. So different from the days where he would mark him with a knife rather than with his teeth. Now he would beg. Not with his words, he was still too prideful for that. Bakura no, Akeifa. Akeifa would come to him with his eyes as blue as the sea and hands that hardly ever tugged.
Almost.
Fishing a handful of silver wefts, Akeifa yanked the students hair back allowing him more access to his neck. Trailing light kisses up his neck he whispered apologies and words of affection. And he would forgive every one.