“You may think I’m a monster but it’s not my fault.”
infamous second son * @matchborn * accepting !
“You’re not a monster .“ Simply said, simply believed with earnest eyes and a firm tone with a comforting touch ; hands grip his shoulders, he levels with him. “You’re Thomas, my luck of the irish,“ a crooked grin as he fondly nicknames him . “You make me food, you let me crash here, and best of all, you’re the only dude hot enough for me to actually feel anything,” a clever play on words ; he meant their body tempature . Delsin was always warm but he could feel Thomas’ warmth as radiantly as how his own overtook him . Fingers brush at his cheek, his head cants, he leans near , “you’re not a monster.” Voice is low and dear, a warmth to his words ; genuine and sincere. Not often was it that he showed his softer side, his tender side, the side that he purposefully hides away from the general public ; save for intimate moments like this . Hands trail down his arms, fingers interweaving with the other’s own, “hey ?” Forehead bumps into the other’s, he tries to catch his gaze, “you’re awesome. You know that, right?”
