the aftermath is secondary | hearth & enzo
Oct 6, 2019 14:19:45 GMT -5
Post by shrimp on Oct 6, 2019 14:19:45 GMT -5
The quiet rests on us like a sheet: suffocating.
The rough flick of a lighter and his face illuminates, blue eyes like a cloudy day. I light his cigarette, then follow suit. Inhale. The smoke wraps around my lungs like a dragon. Its talons dig in, a chill settles.
I don't want to be cold.
After the volunteers march up the platform, a secret finally revealed; after inviting the Krearns, the Sibleys, to the Bowline's dinner in lieu of a family that will escape back to their enclave; after letting my thoughts drift away with the smell of stew boiling in a pot, mussels braised in a white wine sauce, perilla and parsley cascading on top, drank with a laughter that seem heartier than the last month; after clattering plates and Jovyal blessings,
after him, I don't want the ice to overtake me.
I used to walk down by the coastline and feel the waves lap at my feet. I would try walking in during summer's heat but the cold could only get up to my calves before my heart started beating faster, before I had to claim the sweat on my forehead as the sun's, and not the dark's.
I don't want to freeze. I douse my sensibilities in bitter ichor that warms my stomach, in thick lobster bisque with generous parcels of meat, in fried clams with a spritz of lemon, in glasses of clean white wine - but no, I want to be sober for this. Mostly.
I walk with him outside, to the alley behind the diner. The glow is dull on the end of our cigarettes.
"Hey, do you-" I - we, say.
"No, you-"
He defers. I laugh, scratch the back of my neck. The warmth in my cheeks is an embrace. But more than that, would be nice.
All thoughts have left my head. Everything I was going to say, it was muddled up and jumbled but still thoughts. Now all I have is the warm evening glow, how the light dances in his eyes, and I am lost for words.
"I just... I...uhh..."
My peripheral swims lazily. But I want to remember the way his eyes lit up and his smile brightened. I want to remember the way he teased his brothers and how the candlelight glinted off his skin. I want to remember that way that he looked at me tonight, not last month or last week or last year. Tonight.
I step closer, my knuckles grazing his gently, a hare listening in the silence. How different everything was, just hours ago.
"I..."
If the thaw leads to rot,
then at least...
The rough flick of a lighter and his face illuminates, blue eyes like a cloudy day. I light his cigarette, then follow suit. Inhale. The smoke wraps around my lungs like a dragon. Its talons dig in, a chill settles.
I don't want to be cold.
After the volunteers march up the platform, a secret finally revealed; after inviting the Krearns, the Sibleys, to the Bowline's dinner in lieu of a family that will escape back to their enclave; after letting my thoughts drift away with the smell of stew boiling in a pot, mussels braised in a white wine sauce, perilla and parsley cascading on top, drank with a laughter that seem heartier than the last month; after clattering plates and Jovyal blessings,
after him, I don't want the ice to overtake me.
I used to walk down by the coastline and feel the waves lap at my feet. I would try walking in during summer's heat but the cold could only get up to my calves before my heart started beating faster, before I had to claim the sweat on my forehead as the sun's, and not the dark's.
I don't want to freeze. I douse my sensibilities in bitter ichor that warms my stomach, in thick lobster bisque with generous parcels of meat, in fried clams with a spritz of lemon, in glasses of clean white wine - but no, I want to be sober for this. Mostly.
I walk with him outside, to the alley behind the diner. The glow is dull on the end of our cigarettes.
"Hey, do you-" I - we, say.
"No, you-"
He defers. I laugh, scratch the back of my neck. The warmth in my cheeks is an embrace. But more than that, would be nice.
All thoughts have left my head. Everything I was going to say, it was muddled up and jumbled but still thoughts. Now all I have is the warm evening glow, how the light dances in his eyes, and I am lost for words.
"I just... I...uhh..."
My peripheral swims lazily. But I want to remember the way his eyes lit up and his smile brightened. I want to remember the way he teased his brothers and how the candlelight glinted off his skin. I want to remember that way that he looked at me tonight, not last month or last week or last year. Tonight.
I step closer, my knuckles grazing his gently, a hare listening in the silence. How different everything was, just hours ago.
"I..."
If the thaw leads to rot,
then at least...
ooc::
title from Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na) by MCR