Something lighter for a change.


"You're home."

He's only a day late, but Aro knows all too well how much can happen in such amount of time. The relief he feels seeing him arrive still in one piece is indescribable, but he waits until they are alone, through handfuls of pleasantries and touches considered no less than formal, until he can wait no longer and Aro has him drowning in his embrace—fingers like talons of desperation and mouths against each other like they will never have the chance again.

He smells like the unknown; like ash and blood that's not his own.

"Were you worried?" Caius mocks, lips pressing into a grin against his neck, though the underlining tone of sincerity is by no means lost on him.

"I always am." Aro whispers.


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