Writing
Frank shifted uneasily in his easy chair. "Go away, Jimmy." Frank ordered. He wanted the boy to go to his room, and let Frank have the main floor.
The boy didn't move.
Frank tried to ignore him, but the boy's silent presence at the edge of his vision was pervasive, and finally Frank turned his head to bark at the boy, but stopped. Jim stood there in the open doorway, silent and sullen, completely naked.
Frank jumped. "What the hell are doing boy?! Get dressed!"
Jim said nothing, and did not move, an angry challenge in his stance. He was leaning against the doorway, one arm on the molding, like a controposto painting. His young chest moved up and down with his deep, restless breaths, bare from his neck to his toes. His eyes were dangerous and angry.
Frank put his book down. "Put your clothes back on boy," he said dangerously.
"No," Jim snapped, the first thing he had said this entire time.
--
And it gets kind of horrifying after that.
The boy didn't move.
Frank tried to ignore him, but the boy's silent presence at the edge of his vision was pervasive, and finally Frank turned his head to bark at the boy, but stopped. Jim stood there in the open doorway, silent and sullen, completely naked.
Frank jumped. "What the hell are doing boy?! Get dressed!"
Jim said nothing, and did not move, an angry challenge in his stance. He was leaning against the doorway, one arm on the molding, like a controposto painting. His young chest moved up and down with his deep, restless breaths, bare from his neck to his toes. His eyes were dangerous and angry.
Frank put his book down. "Put your clothes back on boy," he said dangerously.
"No," Jim snapped, the first thing he had said this entire time.
--
And it gets kind of horrifying after that.