Theo wakes to the muffled sensation of skin against his own, fingertips traversing the uneven paths of scars across his back. His eyes open, and though Blaise cannot see it from his angle, the tension that cords his muscles at the touch betrays him.
"Good morning," Blaise murmurs, and does not move his hands away.
Also, Theo has a few words for Coldverse Blaise, though not ones he would ever say aloud. It sort of makes me alternately wibble and cringe at the sappy tendencies, but. I show you anyway, since this won't be a part of the finished fic, it just bounced around in my head.
Don't you understand I cannot live without you; don't you understand what you've done to me? I'm not angry, but I suppose it's safe to say that I am hurt- after all, I'll probably never see you again. I can't stay here if it isn't what you want, and I can't remember if I don't stay.
You made this choice. I cannot say it surprises me. I can never give you what you want, and you won't take what I do give. As if you will break it, somehow.
Self-fulfilling prophecy, Blaise.
I wish I could say that I will miss you, but we both know I won't be able.
I'm not sorry I fell in love with you. I'm only sorry that wasn't enough.
Theo is sitting curled up on the rug in front of the fireplace, the flickering light washing his skin is shifting gold and bronze, teasing out the hidden auburn shades of his curls. He is reading, looking down at the book in front of him, and his lashes cast soft semicircles of black across his cheeks.
He's hard to look away from, and Blaise doesn't really try.
A few minutes more, and Theo lifts his head and looks up. "Come here," he says softly, "and waste a little time with me."
"Time spent with you is never a waste," Blaise murmurs, sinking down gracefully next to him, and Theo's lips give the barest twitch. It isn't really a smile, but his eyes betray him; they sparkle with more than just the reflections of the flames. Blaise rests a hand lightly on Theo's shoulder, and his fingers seek out the bare skin just above Theo's shirt. For once, he is warm.
Theodore lifts his head, something hard sparking in his dark eyes. "No," he says, and his voice may be the quiet, but it is the quiet of a drawn blade, the hiss of steel. "Not good enough." A sudden flash of movement, and he grabs Blaise, catches him hard by the wrists and reverses their positions, pushing Blaise to the wall, hands pinned. "You told me once you never lied to me, but you are lying now. You don't want me to go, but you're terrified."
Blaise tenses against him, strains against the hold but finds himself well and truly trapped; Theodore narrows his eyes at him. "It won't work."
"I will destroy you, don't you-"
"Shut up," Theodore snaps, and kisses him before Blaise can say anything else.
Blaise doesn't even know when hands on Theo's shoulders became hands on Theo's hips, doesn't know when his fingers started digging in hard enough to bruise, doesn't know when a harmless press of lips had become real, when exactly he had pushed and Theo had yielded, when everything had gone heady and deep enough to drown in. He has to tear himself away, and he is breathing much too fast
( ... )
More Cold. Surprise surprise. This is after the end. Am I sensing the jealousy issues ight be mutual? Methinks maybe.
"You made a mistake," Tracey says, and her tone is not accusatory; her voice is as mild as it always is. "No one else could ever love you quite like he did. There was nothing he wouldn't have done for your sake." She pauses, and looks away. "You were so lucky," she adds, much quieter, "to have someone who loved you that much, loved you unquestioningly and desperately, loved you with everything he was. How could you possibly give that up?"
Blaise's eyes are shuttered, dark, closed off. "He is the one who left."
"Because you told him to go." Tracey finally looks up at him again. "You told him it was what you wanted, of course he gave it to you. Anything to make you happy, no matter the price." Something catches in her voice. "I'm sorry," she adds, at length, "but it's just such a waste."
sdjhkashj ok, ok, I should sleep, and take a break from the drabble spamming. Apparently I am in a mood for tragedy tonight, judging by these. But then, when I am I not?
...okay this just hurts. And you're right on with Blaise. Please put this in the fic, because I think it needs to be there.
I thought about this, actually. Sex might not be something Theo's naturally inclined towards, but it could still be possible if he didn't feel as if it was a violation, which he seems not to. But as you have gotten onto yourself, that's not the point. The point is the wanting and to connect in that way.
It really would be an interesting scene to play. It throws Blaise's entire sexual identity into a new light, and how he connects with people (that, from Blaise's side, is what this fic is all about).
Theo wakes to the muffled sensation of skin against his own, fingertips traversing the uneven paths of scars across his back. His eyes open, and though Blaise cannot see it from his angle, the tension that cords his muscles at the touch betrays him.
"Good morning," Blaise murmurs, and does not move his hands away.
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Don't you understand I cannot live without you; don't you understand what you've done to me? I'm not angry, but I suppose it's safe to say that I am hurt- after all, I'll probably never see you again. I can't stay here if it isn't what you want, and I can't remember if I don't stay.
You made this choice. I cannot say it surprises me. I can never give you what you want, and you won't take what I do give. As if you will break it, somehow.
Self-fulfilling prophecy, Blaise.
I wish I could say that I will miss you, but we both know I won't be able.
I'm not sorry I fell in love with you. I'm only sorry that wasn't enough.
Reply
Theo is sitting curled up on the rug in front of the fireplace, the flickering light washing his skin is shifting gold and bronze, teasing out the hidden auburn shades of his curls. He is reading, looking down at the book in front of him, and his lashes cast soft semicircles of black across his cheeks.
He's hard to look away from, and Blaise doesn't really try.
A few minutes more, and Theo lifts his head and looks up. "Come here," he says softly, "and waste a little time with me."
"Time spent with you is never a waste," Blaise murmurs, sinking down gracefully next to him, and Theo's lips give the barest twitch. It isn't really a smile, but his eyes betray him; they sparkle with more than just the reflections of the flames. Blaise rests a hand lightly on Theo's shoulder, and his fingers seek out the bare skin just above Theo's shirt. For once, he is warm.
Reply
Theodore lifts his head, something hard sparking in his dark eyes. "No," he says, and his voice may be the quiet, but it is the quiet of a drawn blade, the hiss of steel. "Not good enough." A sudden flash of movement, and he grabs Blaise, catches him hard by the wrists and reverses their positions, pushing Blaise to the wall, hands pinned. "You told me once you never lied to me, but you are lying now. You don't want me to go, but you're terrified."
Blaise tenses against him, strains against the hold but finds himself well and truly trapped; Theodore narrows his eyes at him. "It won't work."
"I will destroy you, don't you-"
"Shut up," Theodore snaps, and kisses him before Blaise can say anything else.
Reply
Blaise doesn't even know when hands on Theo's shoulders became hands on Theo's hips, doesn't know when his fingers started digging in hard enough to bruise, doesn't know when a harmless press of lips had become real, when exactly he had pushed and Theo had yielded, when everything had gone heady and deep enough to drown in. He has to tear himself away, and he is breathing much too fast ( ... )
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"You made a mistake," Tracey says, and her tone is not accusatory; her voice is as mild as it always is. "No one else could ever love you quite like he did. There was nothing he wouldn't have done for your sake." She pauses, and looks away. "You were so lucky," she adds, much quieter, "to have someone who loved you that much, loved you unquestioningly and desperately, loved you with everything he was. How could you possibly give that up?"
Blaise's eyes are shuttered, dark, closed off. "He is the one who left."
"Because you told him to go." Tracey finally looks up at him again. "You told him it was what you wanted, of course he gave it to you. Anything to make you happy, no matter the price." Something catches in her voice. "I'm sorry," she adds, at length, "but it's just such a waste."
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Mrrr. Shall talk to you later, kittycat. ♥
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I thought about this, actually. Sex might not be something Theo's naturally inclined towards, but it could still be possible if he didn't feel as if it was a violation, which he seems not to. But as you have gotten onto yourself, that's not the point. The point is the wanting and to connect in that way.
Gah, way to make Blaise feel terrible.
Must run now. I hope I catch you later sometime.
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Yeah, exactly. It's not really connection if it's that one-sided. Though, that would be an interesting scene to play.
Possibly tonght? Idk. Well, I'll see you when I see you, anyway. ♥ ilu.
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♥
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Mwah. You make me want to AU this so bad.
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