oh how he loves you, darling boy. oh how, like
always, he invents the monsters underneath the bed to get you to sleep next to him, chest to chest or chest to back, the covers drawn around you in an act of faith against the night.

or a mix for romulus and remus, the wolves they were born and the boys they became. the blood on their lips on their hands in their veins running through the streets of rome.

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