@sentinelsurvivor [continued from this]
His nose is pressed to the warm, ruined flesh of the ghoul in his lap, arms folding around the other man in his embrace. Chris holds him like he never wants to release Robbie in a thousand years.
“Voglio passare il resto della mia vita con te.” Chris murmurs against the Ghoul’s skin, eyes falling shut. “Ti amo tanto.”
“You’ve got me too, Robbie. I am consumed by you.”
Robbie bites his thin, dry, not-even-really-a-lip-anymore kind of a lower lip for a good long while, letting his eyes fall closed under all of that Italian and then letting them fall open again to look at the ground while all of his insides twist themselves up even worse than they already were.
The sweet lovely-dovey strings from the Theme to A Summer Place slowly being overlaid with the strings from Psycho. He can’t bear up under this much sincerity. The only way to respond to that much sincerity is with even more sincerity and he already spent all his day’s allotment of it in admitting out loud to that first thing he said, and as he’s reeling internally with all those strings twisting around each other he latches onto the first safely ironic thing to say:
“Well, not half as bad as you could be, baby, I haven’t taken a single bite.”








