tell me i'm wrong, and i'll say i'm sorry | any

[magnus]

desire consumes me like a fire consumes me

”What makes you smile, Magnus?”

She picks up on the slightest shift of his facial expression and if he is surprised, it doesn’t show. He merely takes her as remarkably observant and tilts his head in thought. “Right now, you are,” he deadpans, a sentence that could be trite in the mouth of another but has a remarkably and perhaps surprisingly genuine edge in his own. He rolls his shoulders, unembarrassed by it. “There is something about you that picks at the edges of my mind—like staring into still waters or watching the oceans crash on the shore,” he pauses, laughing low and husky. “Foolish ramblings. Ignore me.”

She presses the conversation forward and he allows it, keeping up with the pace of her thoughts easily. His gold-flecked eyes spark at her question, her assumption that he was important, and he looks out across the land before he looks back at her. “I’m Tephra’s current leader,” he says matter of factly, not attempting to hide anything from her but also not elaborating on it or attempting to put on airs.

When she mentions Sylva, his lacerated mouth drops into a frown, brows furrowing together in thought. “I was gone for a while,” whiskey voice thoughtful, skimming over his absence and the deep-rooted reasons behind it, “and it appears I missed a lot.” He searches her face again. “I don’t know what the future may hold with Sylva, but I am not afraid of it.” On contrary, he feels an almost eager hunger begin to stir in him, a desire for war he has long fought against. It burns there in his belly, reminding him of the warrior he has always been, the battles writ across his scarred hide. “You are more than welcome to stay as long as you like.” Something sparks in his eyes before it quiets. “Although should things go sour in the long run perhaps you will not like to stay as long as I would have you.”

good shouldn’t need to tempt us above