ARCHER.

          ❝ You know pharaoh Ozymandias, if you asked me politely , I could always prepare something for you unlike that stubborn green archer. ❞

      no one ;nothing has ever touched him like this .  robin’s lips meet the pulse at his wrist like a hummingbird’s landing ,  butterfly wings ,  a delicate thing harboring the sort of squire-like manner and deep ,  noble reverence that was much better off demonstrated to a king ,  or a fair maiden .  the sort that would blush and tug away ,  fair-skinned ,  flax-haired ,  giddy with seduction and not a sobering guilt —  ( not enough .  not enough . )  the difference between daydream and reality strips yan qing of his frivolousness ;  makes him ignite greedy to take all that robin had to give .  even if the assassin didn’t deserve it he would plunder it all anyways ,  seizing whatever private sentiments the archer had reserved for him .  bare ,  bewilderingly still-loved ,  one gentle kiss wasn’t enough when he felt like this ,  and so he seizes the archer’s head with both hands to bring them closer ,  closer until they touch lips .  gingerly ,  tenderly ,  yan qing starts to kiss robin in the way that he hopes no one ;  nothing ever did .  with his own mannerless worship ,  his wild impulse —  the lick of wolves ,  rough fingers running through the other’s hair ,  wanting and having and giving .  the archer always has had a better sense of responsibility and restraint than him ,  but he lights a match and drowns them in passion like oil ;  sets the quiet shelters and shy forests of robin’s soul on fire .  he pulls back only once he’s had his fill ,  and the color of robin’s cheeks burned a deeper hue than his own hair .  off you go now .  ‘ …  you’ll still wait for me ,  won’t you ? ‘  he asks it innocently ,  as if he hadn’t left his mark on the other .  stolen their breath ,  set chaos to their heart ,  sabotaged a smooth and carefully calculated move with his own reckless charge ,  lips still warm ,  whim still hot .  what he could not take with ,  he would memorize ,  his eyes enormous and begging ,  robin in each dark pupil’s center ,  a focus mottled and surrounded by iris stars .  be his reason to hurry back .  to preserve his pulse ,  so that it might be butterfly kissed again ,  so that the blood that flowed through his veins could alight and burn the forest once more .  leave them to nothing but themselves ,  not only known but understood at the end of it all ;  beloved .  when he holds robin’s cheeks ,  soft and baking in the callouses of tough palms ,  he smiles softly ,  then grins wide ,  unabashed .  

      ‘ i won’t be long .  promise . ‘