damnitarmand:

I am simply tempted to say ‘Damn it, Armand’ here, but that would be too easy, even if it is at least partially truthful.

I enjoy watching him wake. He does not always do this, but if he knows that I was there with him when the death sleep took him, sometimes the first thing that he does upon regaining consciousness is reach for me, or open his eyes to make certain that I am still there or somewhere nearby.

When his voice drops an octave with distraction or desire. Or both. Both at once. That incites a smile of a rather different kind, granted.

If he is learning to get to grips with a new piece of technology or a computer game, the cursing under his breath can be rather charming, if not outright amusing.

One thing, however, that will always work without fail, and always has made me smile: his arms sliding around my waist, his lips at the nape of my neck, and a moment of peace between us under the night sky. Standing in the dark waters near to the edge of Night Island, twined like this with him, nothing has the power to take that moment from us.