[It's an idealistic sentiment- too sweet for everything that has passed between them. Even now, with Damen's fingers on the narrow bone of his wrist, Laurent thinks not long ago I wanted to kill you. He is too aware of the texture of Damen's fingertips beneath the fabric of his sleeve, of his own pulse under that touch.
Laurent looks at Damen's face, head tilted back to meet his gaze in the scant inches between them. The word is so quiet that he barely hears himself speak it.]
no subject
Laurent looks at Damen's face, head tilted back to meet his gaze in the scant inches between them. The word is so quiet that he barely hears himself speak it.]
Stay.