Noctisardor Bypass [m] sola fide

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please
please, amadeo
please
it rang over and over in his head so many times he thought his eardrums might burst.
she needed him. needed this. needed him him him
visions of her pretty face soaked in the holy birth of the lagoon, the lovely staccato of her terrified yet pleasured moans and cries as he rails her into the ground —
a flash of excitement finds the slate of his eyes. i would be absolutely honored, angioletta, he pulls the paw which sat in his grasp close to his chest, gentle, so gentle with her. gentle was what she needed. gentle was what worked. oh, i haven't had such an opportunity in so long. you are the one doing me a service, dear heda.
his own face flushes, now, hidden beneath the granite peppering of his face. you will have to tell me what your favorite meal is, then. i will hunt it for you, and i will-- ah, have you ever had wine? there's a boyish quality to his countenance, a softness, an ease that almost, for a blink in time, felt genuine. everyone knows you cannot administer the rite of eucharist without wine.