[ there are no wild dreams anymore, only the comfort of knowing he holds the entire world in his arms, and he'll stop at nothing to keep it there. the position isn't exactly comfortable, his body twisted into something smaller just to fit behind the cargo they're using to hide themselves, but that doesn’t matter.
somehow, he sleeps better than he has in weeks, certain that nothing can come between them now. not the cuna de nene, not rhodes, not anyone. thorns is his, and he is thorns'. ]
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somehow, he sleeps better than he has in weeks, certain that nothing can come between them now. not the cuna de nene, not rhodes, not anyone. thorns is his, and he is thorns'. ]