"Oh no?" He asks, voice ragged from their kissing. Demetri might not be a witch, but he certainly seems to be casting his own magic around Fabrice, who feels like he's under a spell with touch and kiss exchanged between them.

"Yes," he manages in between kisses, knowing somewhere in the back of his mind how utterly delicate this situation his, them both being who they are and the town what it is. Still, some other inner part of him remains undeterred, firm in the belief that something good could come of this, even if it takes time.

But he doesn't have time now to dwell on those thoughts. Not when Demetri is glancing a finger across his jaw before moving down to tease at the buttons on his shirt.

"I..." He's all but panting now, overwhelmed by sensation when he remembers his scars. "Maybe not. I...still have scars."