[ He's silent for a long moment, finding little comfort in his embrace. But Ignis is warm and here and he presses his lips against the line of his neck. They're both wounded, caught in an endless misery. Another price to pay for stability, one that hurts each time.
He breathes him in, sinking in the scent of him, the thrum of his pulse and tries not to think of how his absence will leave him empty. ]
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He breathes him in, sinking in the scent of him, the thrum of his pulse and tries not to think of how his absence will leave him empty. ]
How long?