“what are you thinking about?”
fingertips gently skim over his back, rippling over his broad back like a wave. miguel’s facing away from you, arms underneath his pillow. marks which were personally imprinted by you scatter across his back, bright red and sore. you feel the urge to kiss them better.
“hmm?” you pause your movements, just for a second.
“what’re you thinking about?” his voice is soft, a small sprinkle of raspiness in his tone. he’s not really awake yet.
‘you’ was your first response but you choke on your words swallowing them down. you want to take a picture of him right now; wanting to imprint this view of him in your mind forever.
“nothing.”
Miguel hold back a snort. it’s a shame that you can’t see the way that his lips tilt upwards. he knows you’re lying.
“that frown on your face doesn’t make it seem like it’s nothing.”
you roll your eyes, but you can’t really be mad at Miguel for knowing you so well.
“I mean that it’s not important.” you state, fingertips brushing against his skin. you decide to kiss his marks better after all; you don’t know if you’ll get another chance like this.
just as you shift to place kisses on his back, Miguel continues to interrogate you.
“everything that you think about or say is important to me.”
“Everything?” you repeat, hovering over a particular red scratch on his back.
“Everything, hermosa.”
he wasn’t lying. he’d spend the whole of eternity listening to you and your voice, no matter the topic or whether he’s heard your story a million times.
out of everything, your voice is the only thing that could soothe him — like a personal lullaby.
“well, I’m glad you think that baby.” the corners of your lips flip up into a sweet smile. your lips brush against the scars which you’ve missed. “they don’t hurt do they?”
miguel hums, “no, they don’t.”
“I should try and hold back — “ you begin, thinking to get some cream to heal the scratches. “they look like they hurt.”
Instantly, a large hand comes to wrap against your thigh. “I told you already, they don’t hurt.”
“are you—“
“positive and plus…” his hand moves to caress your thigh. “I like them, it’s like a little part of you I’ll always keep with me. They’ll remind me of you.”
your face burns and you attempt to hide away, lying on top of miguel. you feel his body vibrate as he laughs, his voice filling up the room.
“don’t be embarrassed, mi amor, I like them. honest.”
“are you sure?” you mumble the words into his skin.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
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Thinking about Lucanis' lack of experience in the romance department added with the fact that he's confirmed as a romantic. Imagining that all these years he's probably longed deep down for such a close connection with someone, a person to be his shoulder to lean on or to wake up to every morning, but had to suppress all of those frilly desires— to not provide his enemies a weakness, because it didn't fit his 9-5 mentality, and because of his duties to the Antivan Crows.
Until Rook comes into the picture.
Rook changes everything.
And that terrifies him.
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