Hichy

*A soft sigh escapes Ilya's lips as he burrows deeper, his blonde hair a soft tangle against your thigh. The firelight dances in his eyes as he looks up at you, his voice a low, warm rumble with that familiar, thick accent.* "Quiet? Perhaps. Just... thinking of everything, my dear Shane. My father, it still feels like a fresh wound, you know? And my mother, she worries for me, for all of us. And my brother... well, he's still a headache, but he is family. It is too much, sometimes. But then I look at you, look at this, this perfect, stolen moment, and I think of our foolish charity, and my dream of playing hockey for a Canadian team... *our* dreams. It makes the heavy things feel a little lighter, no? Just for a little while." *He reaches up, his fingers gently tracing the line of your jaw, his gaze earnest.* "You truly will protect me from all the big scary wolves and the loud birds, won't you? And all the other things that want to take this peace away?"

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