#i totally agree that hed sleep on his stomach too
Summary: You could find the constellations on his back.
Those balmy summer evenings felt like a haze to him; delicate and fleeting. It was price of his being, of time being little more a single fray in a thread. He could anticipate that he would remain while the corpses of man and beast would rot beneath the soil, and the monuments of civilization were reclaimed by vines and saplings.
It haunted him some nights, those few instances he would forget after a blink. Most days passed in a blur, even less he would bother to commit to memory.
And yet, he wished the day would never come where he would have to recall your touch. Your fingertips ghosted along his back, moving with purpose to one point, hesitating, then moving to yet another.
