#rozalega

  Snow had just started to fall when they arrived at their shared house, invading the ground without wasting time– it wouldn’t be a problem, at least not for the rest of the day. Work was hard and tiring on its own, but being ambushed on the way home, right where their paths met… fighting off bandits and thieves was no problem for either Rozatte or Legamünt, although some injuries were obtained nonetheless. That was more of an annoyance than anything else, a bother that they had to take care of or the wrongdoers would go pester somebody else.

  It wasn’t anything they wouldn’t survive to, there were scars they didn’t talk about in their bodies for a reason. They were experienced fighters, some blood wouldn’t hurt too much… In fact, their enemies definitely ended up in worse shape. Combat was no issue.

  The problem was that Legamünt was a bit (extremely) adamant with letting himself be healed, no matter how many feathers his golden wings lost or how many scratches decorated his face. He didn't like being taken care of– slowly, he was opening up to letting his boyfriend heal him, in body and soul, but he preferred to clean Rozatte's injuries without letting him do the same for him. The warlock didn't mind much; he knew how his partner felt about collaborating with others in general, even if his life could be at risk. Legamünt was taking care of him in complete silence and with his purple gaze falling on his partner as he placed soothing balms on his skin from time to time, checking on him without any sound coming out of his lips.

  Things like these made Rozatte fall in love with his boyfriend over and over again despite his lack of willingness to collaborate; his careful touches, seeing how gentle the angel could be when needed… he didn't even mind the occasional quietness of their shared home, if it meant that Legamünt was comfortable, the other man wouldn't complain at all.

  “Let me patch you up too, dear,” Rozatte mumbled, leaning into his partner’s hands as he cleaned his blood and dust from their battle. The only reply he got was an annoyed groan, so he tried again. “I don’t want you to be in pain either. Let me.”

  The angel looked at him for a moment before saying something, with the faintest of the smiles decorating his face; If someone else were looking at him, they wouldn’t even notice the shift in his expression.

  “Once you’re okay.”

  Success. Rozatte let out a soft chuckle at hearing the response, but he was finally satisfied with how things were going. The angel caressed his light green hair, so slowly that he felt like he would fall asleep right on his own chair. It was then that the warlock noticed how cold his partner’s hands were, almost as if they were made of the same snow that fell and fell right outside of their home– it sent shivers to his entire spine, yet he didn’t complain.

  Instead, Rozatte turned around just to grab Legamünt’s hands with his own, grinning.

  “You’re cold, love. Are you sure you aren’t a snowman?” he noted, rubbing his palms against his skin, in an attempt to warm him up quickly. It wasn’t uncommon for the white haired man to be cold, but he could still get sick if it persisted for long.

  And for the first time since the day began, Legamünt’s soft voice turned into a giggle, his smile becoming more apparent for a couple of seconds before fading slightly once again– there was a combination of calmness and love in his purple gaze, that the warlock couldn't help it but caress his boyfriend's cheeks, enjoying how peaceful he looked.

  Then, Rozatte continued with his self-imposed task of warming up the angel, holding his hands for a second before noticing something he hadn't paid attention to before; multiple scars of different sizes decorating Legamünt's palms and knuckles, and calluses in every single finger that he had.

  He knew that his partner was a skilled knight (if not the most skilled one in his group) but seeing the extent of his battle reminders… the angel had survived a war, it would be strange for him to be completely unscratched. Yet it was a foreign concept for him– Legamünt, getting severely injured? Rozatte couldn't even start imagining any situation in which that was the truth.

  "Why are you looking at me like that?"

  Looking up, he could see Legamünt's cheeks shifting into a reddish hue and him avoiding his gaze. The warlock let out a soft, content sigh, with a gentle smile that decorated his face; it wasn’t hard to make the other man blush, and Rozatte found it adorable every single time without fail.

  "Your hands… Lega, they show how many things you had to survive, how strong you really are,” Rozatte mumbled, trailing his partner’s palms with his fingers before continuing. “They’re beautiful, dear. You are beautiful. And I’m happy you’re with me right now.”

  Now he was the one with a boiling face and an avoidant gaze, suddenly finding the walls interesting. 

  They had been living together for more than a year, yet Rozatte felt something akin to shyness in that moment, even if both men had known each other for a long, long time. He remained in silence after that… at least for a while.

  Without making any sound, Legamünt wrapped the warlock with both his arms and his wings, holding him close to his chest (possibly to avoid showing how his face resembled a tomato then, even if he would never admit it). The warlock could hear agitated heartbeats right on his ear, that slowly soothed until gaining a calm rhythm that wasn’t bothered by anything at all.

  Rozatte loved it when his boyfriend hugged him– a feathered embrace, that made him feel safe even in the roughest situations that they sometimes got themselves in. It was like the sun itself decided to bless him with its warm rays in the middle of Winter– both his chest and his soul felt at ease whenever he was between Legamünt's arms and wings. Nothing would harm him that way. 

  He was right where Rozatte wanted him to be. The warlock moved his hands without saying anything, careful enough so his partner wouldn’t notice, and grinned out of a sudden.

  And so, Rozatte used a spell to grab a wet, clean cloth, just to start cleaning up his boyfriend’s injuries before he could complain. If a warlock didn’t use his spells for good reasons, then learning them would have been pointless. Magic existed to be used after all.

  “Hey, I said once you’re okay,” Legamünt protested, even though he didn't try to stop his partner from healing him. He just did an annoyed pout and crossed his arms on top of his chest, as if he were a little child.

  'Cute' was the single word that Rozatte would use to describe his boyfriend then, no matter how many people would disagree with him. The angel could be adorable even if he didn't realize what his partner thought of him.

  "I'll be fine as long as I'm with you, Lega," Rozatte commented while winking, chuckling softly as he saw the other man blush once again. It wasn't done by accident that time, motivated by the sight of a reddish angel in front of him.

  Legamünt looked at his hands then at his partner again, gesticulating with his mouth with no words coming out from his lips. The warlock tilted his head slightly to the side with confusion in his eyes, but he never pushed the other man to force himself to talk.

  It was never necessary, as it usually didn't take long until the knight found strength in his voice to speak once more, his voice merely a soft whisper.

  "... I'm still cold, Roza," he commented, his wings shifting a bit as he talked. "But I'm tired. Is it okay if I light the fireplace on?"

  “Of course it is, dear, you don’t need to ask. But… wait, I have an idea.”

  With a flick of his fingers, Rozatte made a small flame appear on top of newly-placed firewood, smiling at seeing the pleased expression on his partner’s face. Quietly, he leaned in to kiss the other man’s cheek, letting go of him in search of something. Legamünt was confused for a second, yet that only lasted a couple of seconds as he could see thick blankets on the warlock’s hands.

  The angel got up to grab some pillows and place them on the ground, right in front of the gentle flame that danced between charcoal and wood. Rozatte was satisfied with this, sitting down and extending an arm towards his boyfriend without saying anything; words weren’t extremely necessary in their shared household and so, all Legamünt had to do was get closer to the other man with closed eyes, using his wings as an extra blanket for both of them.