(no subject)

[lovely_ambition]

julio couldn't give anymore but one hand of support, one gentle motion. tenoch let it touch him. one hand to reach out; one face to touch. five fingers brushing past his cheek, and lightly dancing on his skin and it’s too easy to give in.

too easy to cradle in to the touch, to fall in with lips and touch and taste. and this is julio who he knows, but he doesn’t really know him. and now that he knows him like he never did before, things really haven’t changed, but after this, tenoch might never know julio in this way again.

but in the morning, it's all too much to think of; too much to begin to think about. drinks and heat and passion and alltoomuch and luisa was there, so it was different, or maybe not.

to run was easiest. to deny was the best way. tenoch doesn’t want to deal in harsh light and harsh truths and running is just easier. so he ran. and he doesn’t want to look in julio’s eyes now; doesn’t want to see anything that reminds him of the night before.

truth is a harsh light, and tenoch always preferred night anyways.

end





When Dom kisses Miranda, everything tilts. The world spins and shifts on its axis, and shapes distort and blur. Lights turn brighter, sounds get louder, and everything is just so much more vivid. Dom can hear every footstep that walks by, and his skin prickles and jumps with every prolonged moment of lip contact.

Miranda doesn’t understand the need to be so secretive.

She doesn’t understand why Dom wants to kiss her anyway.

When he does, the rest of the world melts away like rain dripping down a windowpane, softly blurring out the world from clear view. Her eyes always flutter, as her hands rest around his neck and pull him a little tighter, not knowing if this would be the last time she got a chance to taste this taste; feel this skin.

Dom doesn’t understand how Miranda can discount herself so easily. She is his candle of strength and warmth, always burning brightly in the darkest of storms, and every time he kisses her, he is reminded just how strong her flame burns. When they kiss, all these unknowns smash together and intensify things to a new level.

Burning candle, burning bright; in the storm, in the night.

end





There’s something that’s just not quite right with Dom and Billy. Individually, they are far too perfect. Dom doesn’t think he can compare to the intelligence Billy demonstrates, and he certainly can’t be as affable as the Scot. Billy knows that he can never measure up to the attraction that screams: “Come hither.” that oozes out of Dom. People will never mistake his sense of humour for Dom’s vivacious life-of-the-party style that people love.

They’re too perfect, so it’s only natural to assume that together they would form a force too perfect for the world to bear.

But there’s something that doesn’t sit right with Dom:

Billy’s got too many damned flaws. He thinks little to nothing of himself and has horrid taste in music. He sings all the time (in the morning, no less) and makes bets too often.

Billy finds something odd:

Dom talks loudly and often. He swears; he picks the wrong team to root for; he bites, he’s possessive, and snarls when people start to tread on his territory. Billy would even go so far as to say that Dom whores himself out for attention (a rather unattractive quality).

Too perfect for each other.

end