Sometimes, Loras could make out a faint smell, the smell of an oncoming winter that only seemed to surround Renly. He released Renly's shirt, but kept his hand at the man's chest, feeling the comforting, steady-gentle thump of his heart beating beneath the material.
"What a horrible prospect," he teased. "And should I change my surname?" It was something he'd thought about, becoming Loras Baratheon and why should he not be? Still, it frightened him somehow. No, that wasn't quite right. It wasn't quite fear he felt, but rather a sense of not being able to turn back.