A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere;
Whisperings
381 words // PG
for nov 28.
brendon/ryan
Because I made a quiet comment on a pretty picture and sobrellevar convinced me it was worthwhile. I am x-bluesoulsmoke.
A lone piano stands, on slender black legs, stranded in the vastness of a high roofed room.
On the left of the piano, the wall is broken by a large window, through which the white-crisp expanse of a clear Winter morning is visible, sunlight streaming through the glass.
Capturing the specks of dust dancing in the air, the light falls onto the black lacquer, and the boy’s cheek. Despite the light, the room’s corners capture the shadows, and the boy is mostly in darkness, along with some of his surroundings, and his spirit. The piano mirrors the clear light, and captures a quiet sort of elegance, which appeals to the boy’s senses. He has been so rushed, so drained recently.
The piano stands beneath a narrow balcony, onto which all the doors of the second floor rooms open. Through one of these doors, a second boy walks onto the balcony. As the first boy continues to play idly, appreciating the cool sun caressing his hair, and making the pale skin of his hands stand out against the blackwhite blackwhitewhite of the keys, the second slowly drifts along the passageway, towards the descending stairs. He goes unnoticed, quiet as the first delicate snowfall. The first boy traces his fingers across the keys, pouring out thick, liquid melody, and sighs heavily. His eyes roam towards the view outside the window; the iced lake, sugar frosted trees. The second boy descends the staircase, and walks towards the piano. He trickles his fingers lightly over the higher keys, harmonising the new melody with the original. He glides his hand over the piano towards the first boy’s dancing fingertips, and then over his hands, tracing the knuckles and the shifting ligaments. He strokes his palm up over the boy’s wrist and then his forearm, trailing shivers all the way to his shoulders and neck. As he gently massages the boy’s shoulders, he leans forward to whisper something in his right ear, so quiet it feels like a mere breath of cool air on his ear. A promise.
The first boy smiles and sighs again in contentment, twisting his neck to catch the second boy’s eyes, and return the gaze he can feel tickling his spine.
His eyes flicker, and he breathes a single sentence.
“Oh Ryan.”
A first poster, but I'm recklessly crossing fingers. The pairing isn't all too adventurous, I know, but the hands on the piano were whispering 'Brendon' at me.
381 words // PG
for nov 28.
brendon/ryan
Because I made a quiet comment on a pretty picture and sobrellevar convinced me it was worthwhile. I am x-bluesoulsmoke.
A lone piano stands, on slender black legs, stranded in the vastness of a high roofed room.
On the left of the piano, the wall is broken by a large window, through which the white-crisp expanse of a clear Winter morning is visible, sunlight streaming through the glass.
Capturing the specks of dust dancing in the air, the light falls onto the black lacquer, and the boy’s cheek. Despite the light, the room’s corners capture the shadows, and the boy is mostly in darkness, along with some of his surroundings, and his spirit. The piano mirrors the clear light, and captures a quiet sort of elegance, which appeals to the boy’s senses. He has been so rushed, so drained recently.
The piano stands beneath a narrow balcony, onto which all the doors of the second floor rooms open. Through one of these doors, a second boy walks onto the balcony. As the first boy continues to play idly, appreciating the cool sun caressing his hair, and making the pale skin of his hands stand out against the blackwhite blackwhitewhite of the keys, the second slowly drifts along the passageway, towards the descending stairs. He goes unnoticed, quiet as the first delicate snowfall. The first boy traces his fingers across the keys, pouring out thick, liquid melody, and sighs heavily. His eyes roam towards the view outside the window; the iced lake, sugar frosted trees. The second boy descends the staircase, and walks towards the piano. He trickles his fingers lightly over the higher keys, harmonising the new melody with the original. He glides his hand over the piano towards the first boy’s dancing fingertips, and then over his hands, tracing the knuckles and the shifting ligaments. He strokes his palm up over the boy’s wrist and then his forearm, trailing shivers all the way to his shoulders and neck. As he gently massages the boy’s shoulders, he leans forward to whisper something in his right ear, so quiet it feels like a mere breath of cool air on his ear. A promise.
The first boy smiles and sighs again in contentment, twisting his neck to catch the second boy’s eyes, and return the gaze he can feel tickling his spine.
His eyes flicker, and he breathes a single sentence.
“Oh Ryan.”
A first poster, but I'm recklessly crossing fingers. The pairing isn't all too adventurous, I know, but the hands on the piano were whispering 'Brendon' at me.