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“What will you ask 𝗛⃥𝘪̸𝗺⃥ for?”

You should say answers. You should say Bug’s eternal safety. You should say so many things, but his taste is on your tongue and you can’t, you can’t think of anything else.

“Don’t ask me that right now,” you whisper.

Silas smiles, but it’s rueful. “I guess it doesn’t matter - I’m not the one you need to answer; 𝗛⃥𝘦̸ is.”

You shudder; you don’t know from what. “I don’t want to think about it. Don’t make me think about it. I just…”

“Just…?”

Your lips crash into his. He finally goes quiet and pliant against you.

 

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