*gestures vaguely at a whole ass cast of characters*
“None were ever busy being heterosexual. All were busy studying the blade. Some were still heterosexual, but all still prioritized the blade.”
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Aramis wearing camisole-looking dress and feeling diva while Athos is completely fed up with that
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Three things: Fire, blanket, Ill
Tagging: @kmc1989@pansexualhailstorm@missyhoneybee
@sweetpeaswife@keyweegirlie
You’re very ill. Your skin is flushed with fever, your body trembling with cold. Your dreams are frightful fitful things that Athos tries to sooth away with a tender caress and reassuring words.
It’s the third day of the sickness and Athos worries, he worries that you may succumb to it, that today might be your last. He can’t stand the thought of it, so he tries everything he can to restore your health. He urges you to drink the tonics the doctor gives him, he sets up a bed in front of the fire so that the flames heat your bones.
You mumble again in your sleep and he tucks the blanket even tighter around you, before he holds you close, his face buried into the curve of your throat.
“Come back to me.” He pleads, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear. “Please my love, don’t leave me here alone.”
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