Mi casa es su casa…
Cheeks, so sharp, you can get cut on them; eyes wide beyond belief and inviting, accepting, teasing.. behind the openness there is shutter of steel, closed, fortified and closed once again.
Duncan knows, already knows, when endangered, Methos’ cheeks grow even sharper, and he could swear, Methos shape-shifts, morphs into another human being, in another being.
This is the road to hell, future with Methos, and this is a road to heaven; immense pain and the height of ecstasy, and the only sure thing is, there is going to be future for them, together, joint; bleeding and even the sky is not the limit for them.
The witcher and bewitched, turning and twisting roles of victim and abuser all the time..
They have been together for so long, livin’ in one (la mia casa) and another (il tuo casa), so over the centuries casa’s are joint together, became domestico, and at some point their houses, homes, (but in italian there is casa for all above mentioned) merged together in the casa.
What, actually, was said already in the beginning: mi casa es su casa.
Finito. (La comedia, not comedians. Oh, no - they are ever living, loving, lasting, lashing out and lingering in: bed, thoughts, habits).