His calloused fingers glided over your own, lips brushing against skin — a smile springing upon the edges of his mouth.

In the silence of the warm afternoon would hushed promises lay.

And yet, the lines between his affection and madness persistenly blurred.

A flame in his heart — one he could never quite tame.

"I saw you haven't eaten yet. I made your favourite meal!" Thoma was chirpy as ever — as glaring as the sun hanging low, melting in the rosy and orange hues of the sky.