<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;">~Lo~</span></strong></span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">Night's starless shade gave way to morning rays in good time, for then Deimos awoke suddenly, stare still smeared with that adorable moment of confusion, of fragile, unspoiled innocence. How Lo cherish watching him slumber, chimerical dreams flashing behind either eyelid, his round face seized through unconscious expression and emotion. <br/><br/><strong>“I shall get you whatever you want, my Lord.”</strong><br/><br/>Those burnt irises observe on, a warm hand reaching over to slide across that pale cheek, skin so soft, divine even; the another arm--entangled around the godly waist--was peeled back, its slow withdrawal tentative. He propped himself up, elbow flattened against lavish sheets, breath caught between teeth like unwary flies fluttering right into cobwebs. No one else would ever be more exquisite than this magnificent creature, icy orbs, youthful frame, all of it perfect in every way. <br/><br/>Lo slip off their mattress, skimpy bandages lay taut around fresh wounds, though the sanguine strips did little to cover the most intimate areas of his warped, yet trim physique; worn over time were the heavy  chain-links encircling the servant, forever bonded against flesh…they did not impede him whilst he dressed the impatient Deimos, whose instructions had already been matter-of-factly announced. There: dark pants, some navy turtleneck, silken fibers soft and rather tight.<br/><strong><br/>"As you wish... it will only take a minute."</strong> He lean in, compassionate lips, fleeting beasts, adorn the forehead below with a loving caress. Fingertips reach down, too, straightening up that messy mop of his. Soon hasty palms dance towards proper undergarments, followed by a snug scarlet kimono to tug on before departing. Thereafter Lo disappear off into the frigid air, completing every task as instructed so.   </span><br/>