[Not the Collins'. Not the world's. In Edmond's arms is a sanctuary with the promise of safety. The hands on his waist steady him just as much as they thrill him, and he's certain that, if Edmond picked the right spot, he could feel Hans's pulse in his throat.
His fingers curl and they tug. A little force to encourage him.]
no subject
[Not the Collins'. Not the world's. In Edmond's arms is a sanctuary with the promise of safety. The hands on his waist steady him just as much as they thrill him, and he's certain that, if Edmond picked the right spot, he could feel Hans's pulse in his throat.
His fingers curl and they tug. A little force to encourage him.]
Won't you make me sing for you?