An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Ratio slipped his arms around Aventurine, pulling him close. He leaned down so he could bury his head in the crook of his neck, the cold skin a stark contrast to the warmth he was so used to. A second passed before Aventurine reciprocated. It was only now, when Ratio couldn’t see him, that he felt trembling hands embrace him back, and those lips stuck in a sly smile began to fall as he was pressed against his shoulder.
“Do not thank me for anything,” Ratio mumbled, “I failed.”
“Whatever you say, Veritas,” Aventurine responded. It was muffled, but he could still hear the bitter chuckle that came afterwards.
When they pulled away, Ratio pretended not to notice the damp stain on his shoulder.
After failing to secure Penacony for the IPC, Aventurine is sentenced to death. Ratio manages to secure a visit with him the night before his death day.
