He would never, ever be able to say so with all the men and women who fought and died every hour in this war, but there was always a moment when the attacks came at night that his treacherous heart just loved.
It was the moment when they first woke, to an explosion or cries or the clash of swords. His head would jerk up from the bundled-up cloak where he slept and his companion would sit upright, flame unfurling into existence in the palm of his cupped hand.
That would always be his image of Roufas: bare chest scorched in the light of his flame, hair a dark corona around him. He was beautiful by day, but Christall was the one who had him in his element.
KKM: Christall/Roufas: Night Attack
He would never, ever be able to say so with all the men and women who fought and died every hour in this war, but there was always a moment when the attacks came at night that his treacherous heart just loved.
It was the moment when they first woke, to an explosion or cries or the clash of swords. His head would jerk up from the bundled-up cloak where he slept and his companion would sit upright, flame unfurling into existence in the palm of his cupped hand.
That would always be his image of Roufas: bare chest scorched in the light of his flame, hair a dark corona around him. He was beautiful by day, but Christall was the one who had him in his element.