Drowsy and undone, Estinien thinks of little but the steady rhythm of Aymeric's breathing, of being wrapped up in him. Fingers of one hand still loosely tangled in his raven hair, he turns his head, just enough to surreptitiously look Aymeric over. Fury, all about him is fascinating and beautiful, still.

The lightning that arcs between them is utterly undiminished, and Estinien cannot decide if that is a problem.

It would be so impossibly easy to fall into this, into Aymeric, a routine, a life. That's what it is to be soulmates, isn't it? Estinien considers this in earnest for perhaps the first time, staring at Aymeric's sweet smile as he grasps the thought instead of brushing it aside. He needn't think it over long, though. In truth, it cannot matter. Whatever the two of them might be, dalliance or something deeper, he still must see Nidhogg slain, the war ended, his family avenged. It is a destiny he has no plans of surviving, and so all else must necessarily wait.

Still, it feels as though he and Aymeric are bound up now, past a simple tangle of limbs, a deeper weave. And that is... concerning, dangerous. His distance from aught else had been a way to protect himself and others, and now he finds that he is too close to one person - one person he does not wish to harm, and yet will, by necessity.

He exhales softly, and moves, drawing away.