Us. Our story.

Omi patted his knee, and stood to leave, saying he would be back in a few hours to check on Aya and make sure he took the next dose of pain killers. Aya tried not to feel patronized. Fuck it. Fuck Omi. He did feel patronized. He ignored the way pulling on his shirt mage his wound twinge. Yohji had been standing in the doorway, watching Omi bandage him up. He did that sometimes. Aya didn't understand why, but didn't mind the watching, but tended to mind it less when he was clothed. If Aya didn't say something, Yohji would likely just go away eventually. "Do you want something?" Aya asked, glancing over his shoulder.( Read more... )

Omi raced toward the line of travelers, the rain pelting his skin cooling him but falling hard enough to bruise. They were easy to see -- a dozen men on horse back and two carriages. One carriage held the king of Goryeo, the other housed his Yuan bride. Omi spotted Aya and Yohji among the other Wu Dal Chi, the Royal Bodyguards. ( Read more... )