mysterypeach
Dan is bored, he's practically sleeping. This isn't their scene, not their crowd and Arin nudges him with an elbow in the soft part of his ribs to keep him up, because if he starts to snore Suzy will murder the two of them. Not that she notices them much as Barry (who does like ballet) is whispering to her and pointing at the stage, with Suzy nodding excitedly in agreement.
A run over ragged trench of thick grass, the bottom sunk with mud and soft from the rain, the same three days worth of rain that's filled up the bottom of the trench. His knees are wet through his pants as he struggles to make purchase, to climb upwards.
Easy, reliable. They considered her enough of that. She's as steady as they come, but underneath the calm in the waters there is an urge waiting to get out. She wants to be rough, to tumble through life and the streets screaming and falling into waiting arms. She wants to be reckless, wants stories to tell, wants danger and feeling alive. She wants to be anything but predictable. Anything but a steady ship on peaceful seas.
A fake, a false heart, plastic and strips of felt, pipe cleaner edges. You never had a real one, so you don't know what love really is, but the important thing is and oh yes, there is an important part to all of this is that you tried to love me. You took your decoy of a heart and loved as best you could.
A thundering realization that maybe the world isn't as static as she thought. She's been living in the gray area in between the black and white. A foundation built of two men she loves, two she has such passion for, a trifecta of sex, and love, and trust, and it's nothing that needs a name, but it's everything all at once.
Passion. A crazed heat. It's way too hot to be in bed, to be joined together. His skin is damp and hot and she feels on fire. His mouth tastes her even where she's sweating and the bed is all fucked up underneath them. His groans are fire curling around her and his hips slide against her own. It is too much, heat, and Him and their breath hanging like heavy clouds overhead.
Really, you can't remember what happened to you. One minute you were sleeping, the next you're in a new town. What you don't know, that I do know, is that you hit your head on the boat. That's why you have that gash on the back of your skull. You fell to the floor and someone, someone dragged you up on deck. Someone decided you were worth saving.
The framework of Louis' body is perfect. He's just tall enough, slender enough, beautiful. Everything that Liam doesn't attribute to himself or really, any other guy he's ever met before. Louis is something else, all on his own.
Father Van Vleet works in the cathedral. It's been his goal for many years to wind up here. It's one of the highest positions in the town and it hasn't really sunk in that he's become something of these people's moral compass. It's a heavy duty, one that sometimes keeps him up at night, but as he stands within the safety of the church in the morning, the first light coming through the stained glass. He knows this is the place for him.
For one brief moment I met your eyes and we were both on the same page, the same wavelength and for that moment in time we were the only ones there. We had the same goal, the same passion, and we voiced it in mirrors to each other. You were louder, and you had the power, but I didn't feel intimidated. I wanted you to see my echo of you.
load more entries