[ laces ] your muse lacing , tying , or zipping something for mine , such as shoes , a dress , or a jacket , etc .
dominance | not accepting
Morning brought a crispness to the air. Lee Sin let it in through open windows that allowed for the passage of invigorating breezes and the cheerful chirps of birds, the scent of dew on the grass he could tell was a bright green despite not being able to see the colors of the world any longer. The sensations pushed relaxed breaths from him, before one of those breaths was sucked in with the effort it took to sit himself up from his bed.
A scarred hand tapped against a modest bedside table, and fingers enclosed around a small vial. Tipping his head back, the monk dripped the liquid within into each milky eye twice, and the blinking that followed brought relief to those dry and tired eyes. As per habit, his hand searched for the next item on that table, only to pause when it did not rest in its usual position. Fingers splayed out on the wood, his heart picking up just so while he searched.
And quick was he to calm when the familiar fabric was felt over his eyes once again. A careful draping before it tightened, and Lee Sin was often in awe at how gentle those strong hands could be–hands that could wield swords to cut men in half could just the same so gingerly wrap the monk’s red blindfold around his unseeing eyes… and just as quietly swipe it right under the very attentive monk’s nose.
“I see I share a bed with a thief.”













