(01-26-2018, 03:55 AM)AUREATEâ„¢ link Wrote: [align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]i. He drags them against the stone wall and kisses them, an apology he can't actually put into words. But his fingers are wrapped tight in their shirt and he's insistent, sweet, lingers there a moment after his apology runs dry, forehead to forehead. And maybe they understand.

ii. There's something wonderful this time. Hands dance over skin, hands are light when they push, pull, guide. Laughing as they almost trip over the carpet, laughing when his back hits the bed, laughing when they kiss. Their mouth feels the way silk and summer rain should feel, cloud-soft but insistent. Despite his faith, he's never felt more inclined to worship.

iii. He has no right to the sickness building in his chest, face fighting a flush, teeth pressed hard into his tongue, hard enough to hurt. There's copper lingering in the back of his throat but he doesn't mind anymore, just turns to look at something else. Anything else.

iv. The world is orange. Behind the trees, between the trees, between the chainlink armor of their barks. It flares yellow and swallows the world whole, chokes it in smoke. It smolders red up in the atmosphere, and flakes of fire fall like leaves, watching summer die. It's wonderful and deadly and for the first time he can remember, he's truly terrified.

(01-27-2018, 11:33 PM)AUREATE™ link Wrote: [align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]— Whoever Valen is speaking with always has his full attention unless something dramatic happens, like Margaret running off or someone starting a fire. He doesn't bother with being partially there. If he's uninterested, he'll leave and find someone interesting. Or he'll play along, but he does even that incredibly thoroughly. Nobody feels unwanted around him.
— He doesn't hide amusement. When he wants to smile, he does. And he does it very well. Smiles spread from one corner of his mouth to the other until there's a flash of teeth and his eyes seem several shades lighter. His laughter is a gentle sort of warmth.
— On the same line of thought as the first, Valen doesn't bother with things he's not passionate about. No lukewarm feelings unless he's absolutely obligated to be a part of this bullshit. His anger is obvious and absolute, and his love is just as apparent. If something matters to him, he'll generally make it clear. The one other thing there is with romance.
— Even then, if he wants something. It's obvious. It's just a matter of getting him to say it first.