The sunlight shone golden through the latched window, illuminating the goosebumps on his neck. He always seemed like the moon, skin shining with the silver sheen of silk, but as the other man sat there, profile backlit by the lovely orange light, he seemed to glow like the sun. Like something that was worth orbiting around. He felt as if he could be sentenced to orbit around him, he would surely not put up a fight. Almost like being confined to infinite heaven, although the exact thing he had been promised for his current thoughts was hell. The other man’s dark hair fluttered around his face, framing his jaw. He wondered if he could stretch out fingers and brush them along it to feel cold marble, like he was too good to be true. Like something ancients would sculpt, preserve in stone forever - just so future generations would even have a chance to experience what it felt like to gaze upon the face in front of him. But statues can’t capture the soft blue of his eyes, how only he caught those looks of longing when everyone else got caught up in the storm. Statues couldn’t capture the dimples in his cheeks when he smiled, the words that accompanied them only ever displayed on tips of frozen marble tongue, snatched in midair so no one else could have the luxury. What is in love? The word, so simple yet so complex. Truly what people go to war for, kill for. The meaning of life may well be love, as there is such elation yet such terror in what it means. It is different for every person yet so similar. If such kinds of love are a sin, then why must they seem to override the heart, the brain, overpower one’s soul. Why must it be felt in every turn, every action if God intended for it not to happen. Surely the Omniscient and Omnipotent would have stopped such an aching type of yearning for something proclaimed so evil. If such longing is unnatural, why does he hear the other man’s whispers in the rustling grass, or see the shade of his eyes in sun-stroked lakes, like over diluted watercolour, bleeding beautifully across canvas. He would happily drown and splutter on that water, all that would be needed was for him to raise the question.
after nearly 5 years I rise from the dead and post something almost positive. may or may not be a snippet of fanfic im writing. -inky
