The Sentinels legs and hands, thumbs together

His emerald gaze followed the shadow, not daring the glance away in case he might miss something spectacular. Indie always created an edge-of-your-seat feeling, somehow in any situation, and Donovan experienced first-hand constantly. She wouldn't have to even be in his presence, even in his dreams she would commit acts he wouldn't deem believable. Conjure sentiments no other had undergo before, that was a skill he knew wasn't molded by any mentor other than herself. The entire time Don was a statue, as he most often was, an unmoving, stoic piece of art to be glanced at. In conversation his actions weren't unpredictable, he was a concoction of a plethora of rock, melted together by heat and formed into stone. He was accurate proving she held hardly a belief of a hatred towards her, he was here. He traveled for his heart, and one cannot hate their heart, no matter the tragedy prompted.

She couldn't return to Merry-Andrew's, a smoke exited his nose in compunction, of course she couldn't return - so would he be forced to leave his flame, his heart, his amour or to leave that all behind and return to his other beloved, the gang. It was a quick, though troublesome decision. Merry-Andrew's didn't provide the spark he needed to burn within his body and burst through every maneuver he made. His home was a place of sorrow, the lack of a father, the lack of his flame had singed it's core, leaving a skeleton, just as the forest they stood in now. He was their leader, but every decision made seemed to ache, he could no longer support a group that destroyed him. "Then I will stay here," his gaze locked with her own, "with you." 

A golden world, built by them. Hand-made by the only two souls who could possibly materialize such an idea. One that a half of this couple could never make on their own. Her open invitation was swiftly reacted to, Donovan eliminated the gap blocking any touch, and wrapped his neck agaisnt her own, muzzle directly next to her ear. "Then a golden world we'll create." The gangster insisted, a feeling of light beginning to form within him, starting at the void within his heart and spreading throughout his body. Now, all he could think of was their potential, what they could commit this very moment and it be as impromptu as every other choice made by them.