stevenewln .
𝙒𝙄𝙉𝘿𝙎 𝙊𝙍𝘾𝙃𝙀𝙎𝙏𝙍𝘼𝙏𝙀 𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙒𝘼𝙑𝙀𝙎 𝙍𝙊𝘼𝙍 𝙄𝙉 𝙁𝙊𝘼𝙈 & how go against shores , but he will plan on how to break a smile outta his boyfriend , head rests on an angled shoulder and he hates seeing him turn away , but when fingers entwine this brings some reassurance , some hope that not all of this is lost & if one needs bandages 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐮𝐩𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐧 , newlin is there to remedy the burns , but he tries to restrain his lover from self - harm with sun - like personality . he is a young moon , reflecting solar flares in smiles but 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 ❛ ‘n you’re way too right for ya own good . but ah can try . 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚍𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎 . ❜
there is a pause , steve’s hand rubs on russell’s back hand tiny muscles , eons old but they are built like a stone , carved in eternity , every touch gravitates to make another three , a maker & a progeny 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘣 . ❛ c’mon baby, i hate seein’ you suffer . ❜
still , tense ‘gainst tender touch ––– this grief is an ugly thing . it has made him distant , defensive . twisted vines of anger , of vengeance & misery , winding ‘round aged throat : a self - made , sun - kissed noose . posing barricaded wall , with steve sweetly requesting entrance at iron gates . ( 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄 ––– oh , my dear boy , if only it were that simple ! )
talbot scolds , somewhere far off , hidden amongst the crashing waves , & gaze is forced away . another open wound , still bleeding . still sends a pang of ice into chest . better to not think about . ❛ ––– i was so close . ❜ brittle , broken thing , tainted by the ache of bitter longing . it had nearly killed him , but ––– he’d do it all again in a heartbeat . ❛ i’d felt the sun on my skin , on my face , for the first time in thousands of fuckin’ years . maybe only for a moment , but ––– ❜ guttural sound , gravel over pain , softness of hum only granted by leaking eyes . drops allowed to run , too caught up in the memory to care . behind fluttering lashes , he is taking those first steps from fangtasia , first rays falling ‘pon crown . steve’s hand is squeezed , threshold of anticipation reached in that which is not real & anguished in that which he cannot have . ❛ ––– it was heaven . ❜
