nightmarist: (edified ☘)
Ronan Lynch ([personal profile] nightmarist) wrote 2019-08-26 05:39 am (UTC)

For the stranger's land may be bright and fair
And rich in all treasures golden
You'll pine, I know, for the long, long ago
And the heart that is never olden...


[ The moment of Murphy's drifting into sleep, where reality ends and the dream begins, is a blurred passing. At some point, Ronan moves from the floor to the edge of the bed, leaning over Murphy to comb his hair back with soothing fingers.

He's home now. Murphy's home, whatever he wants home to look like. ]

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