#halrom

I saw @annova's open tag and decided to step right in (ty!). Time is simply a construct, so continuing the tradition of WIP Wednesday (on a Friday) :3

I'll admit, the active WIPs have gotten a tiny bit out of hand as of late, but I've spent the past week working on a fun little untitled one shot, featuring halrom-style conflict resolution. There's one sure-fire way to end an argument with these two.

“Paying attention, Grand Magister?” Halduron interrupted, voice brimming with unspoken mirth. Rommath’s eyes snapped upward. His mind scrambled for any clue of what he’d been asked, but all he recalled were charming cheeks, dangerous eyes, an alluring throat. And nothing of their present argument. Mercy wasn’t extended between them—it never was, now no exception. Instead, Halduron simply waited, lips just beyond his own, hand still teasing over the crumpled collar separating the softness of his neck from the danger of sharp claws.  A heat rose to Rommath’s ears in realization, painfully aware of how obvious he had been. “You can be so frustrating,” said Halduron, voice hushed. His breath was hot against newly bared lips, holding a wicked promise. “But you know that, don’t you?” Rommath scoffed. “I won’t waver in what I know is right.” “Then you should appreciate why I'm unable to do the same. Regardless—that’s not what I asked.” “It’s different. You, more than any, should be well aware of the—” He was cut off by the cold claw of Halduron’s gauntlet, light over his lip. The smooth press aimed to draw only his attention, not blood. He trembled against it, fighting the way his lip quivered in response. The thrilling shudder down his spine. “Then tell me what is right,” Halduron ordered in such a way that compelled Rommath to relent. “Tell me what you really want.”