[ It's true, that the both of the humans are littered with imperfections. Sypha with burns and lightning scars from failed spells and gouges from monster claws and teeth. Alucard with the marks of struggle and starvation. Few things have ever really managed to leave marks on Trevor, save for his own father and the army of demons that tore his sisters apart.
But there's a paradox. Those marks are part of them. Part of the story, Sypha would put it. Stones on the path that led the both of them to him. And that means that they can't truly be imperfections, because they're part of a perfect whole.
His free hand moves downward, fingers trailing across Alucard's cheek and neck and collar. He can't touch his chest with them pressed against each other like this, but he can trail that hand down his side until he comes across one of those scars, brushing his fingers over it. ]
Good thing I'm here, then, to let you see things how they are.
[ Another kiss, and by the time it ends he's pushed in to the second knuckle. It's still slow and careful, but this time instead of withdrawing he curls his finger slowly. ]
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But there's a paradox. Those marks are part of them. Part of the story, Sypha would put it. Stones on the path that led the both of them to him. And that means that they can't truly be imperfections, because they're part of a perfect whole.
His free hand moves downward, fingers trailing across Alucard's cheek and neck and collar. He can't touch his chest with them pressed against each other like this, but he can trail that hand down his side until he comes across one of those scars, brushing his fingers over it. ]
Good thing I'm here, then, to let you see things how they are.
[ Another kiss, and by the time it ends he's pushed in to the second knuckle. It's still slow and careful, but this time instead of withdrawing he curls his finger slowly. ]