[If you're really sure, his Bonded says, and: I want to celebrate, and it sends a shiver of uncomplicated delight through their Bond and up Myr's spine.
(A dimly grasped thought troubles the back of his mind, an image like he'd conceive in the Fade: L returning to him from the depths of some primeval forest, shadow cast before him by the sun at his back. It isn't until that razor-edged silhouette becomes distinct from the massy dark around it that the detective's himself again.)]
Then let's! [he says, laughingly, turning his head brush his nose against his Bonded's hair.] Let's not stand here any longer!
[Though departing for his labyrinth means breaking this sweet contact, even if only a little while, because neither of them could really walk like this. And there's a little dismay to that, a little sorrow, enough that the faun lingers just a little longer despite his own words...
Until an idea occurs to him.]
Wait. Wait--here, [he says, sidling just enough away from L he can sink to the cobbles of the street, folding his long legs up beneath him. He's still almost too tall to mount like that, until he thinks to extend a leg as a step up.]
I'll carry you back. Be my eyes?
[He knows the way back, but obstacles could always change.]
no subject
(A dimly grasped thought troubles the back of his mind, an image like he'd conceive in the Fade: L returning to him from the depths of some primeval forest, shadow cast before him by the sun at his back. It isn't until that razor-edged silhouette becomes distinct from the massy dark around it that the detective's himself again.)]
Then let's! [he says, laughingly, turning his head brush his nose against his Bonded's hair.] Let's not stand here any longer!
[Though departing for his labyrinth means breaking this sweet contact, even if only a little while, because neither of them could really walk like this. And there's a little dismay to that, a little sorrow, enough that the faun lingers just a little longer despite his own words...
Until an idea occurs to him.]
Wait. Wait--here, [he says, sidling just enough away from L he can sink to the cobbles of the street, folding his long legs up beneath him. He's still almost too tall to mount like that, until he thinks to extend a leg as a step up.]
I'll carry you back. Be my eyes?
[He knows the way back, but obstacles could always change.]