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Summary
Soft, Phainon thought with his breath catching in his throat. He looks… soft. Comfortable.
Familiar and foreign features mixed together creating an image so enchanting Phainon couldn’t tear his gaze away even if he tried. Painfully familiar crimson tattoos, same shade of strawberry blonde hair that made Phainon’s hand itch with the desire to bury his fingers in those soft locks. Same build and strength that belonged to a body that was forged by one tragedy after another but there laid a difference – where once was hard and unyielding muscles now laid a soft layer of fat that only came with decades lived in comfort, something that his Mydei had never had the privilege of having. The locks that Phainon was so used to – shiny, a little wavy and with ends that were just uneven enough to get unnoticed by the general public – now were longer, shinier, wavier.
This Mydei was older, more mature. With scars painting his body that Phainon didn’t know the history behind and with experience that Phainon was never a part of.
The thought inexplicably made something in his chest hurt.
or somehow Phainon wakes up in an unfamiliar Amphoreus.