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91. Because

“How is your wound Thomas?” I asked as Thomas entered into Emrys’ office, his blue doe eyes larger than usual, a rosy blush kissing over the bridge of his nose and dripping onto his lightly freckled cheeks which gave him the facade of being a little boy, and I chuckled as his head popped up.

“Oh,” He chuckled nervously and rose his hand up to nervously itch the back of his neck, his chocolate brown hair a little messy. “I, um, didn’t realized you’d be here already Luna,”

“Am I not supposed to be early?” I teased and put the book about northern climate environments that I happened to be browsing back in Emrys’ personal bookshelf and nodded for Thomas to sit.

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tropicalremix
why can't they be together
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