A Taste…of Whiskey and Wry
Sionn took Damien’s face into his hands and stared down the phantoms lurking in the other’s gaze. “You’ve got me here with you now, a rún. I’ll help you get through this.”
It seemed like a tiny promise, but something shifted between them. Sionn could see it in the change in Damien’s expression. Whether he was exhausted from fighting or his nightmares had reached their saturation point, Damien stretched out his hand, touched Sionn’s shoulder, and skimmed down over the curve of his arm.
Squeezing lightly, he nodded once, then bit his lip hard, nearly to the point of drawing blood.
And Sionn’s heart shattered as Damien finally gave in to the pressures built up inside of him.