@fogleader 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 ! ❛ ‘ what’s your name? ’ ❟ / question starters, accepting
𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞, the plunge of cool steel between his fourth & fifth ribs, & his heart ( carnelian red, dripping with a sticky, sugary venom, devoured wholly by the boy he thinks he loves, ) weeps for it. but those icy blue hues twist the light, hiding what he never learned to show ; he, a muted canvas with an unholy mouth, unable to shape an apology, painfully lingering in their silence. his mother once taught him not to unravel for anyone but himself, & now danny finds himself wishing he knew how to soothe dwight’s aching—— he craves the taste of devotion, a kind of solstice, to kiss a sorry upon those tense shoulders. he wants to tell dwight how their love once swelled in his chest until it was something suffocating, until he had to gasp for air between every word. it would have killed him, eventually, had he stayed. surely he understands. ( oh, mother, just this once, may i unravel for him ? can he gently tear me apart at the seams, with his teeth, with a kiss ? )
the moon, the light, the soft gasp as it consumes the space between them, silver light filtering through an open bedroom window. the startling cold of the evening air kisses against his neck, & he is reminded of the frigid night of his vanishing, feels ill all at once, remembers how desperately he tried to kill the parts of him that longed for dwight. he won’t ask for forgiveness. lies within lies within lies.
𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. so gingerly, tenderly, reaches a hand to hold the side of his lover’s cheek, how the frigid cold of his gaze seems to soften when he does. mind briefly flickers to the scars on his hands, the blood that stains them even after he’s washed the skin raw ( because there is no way to define this body without defining the violence, ) & for a moment expects dwight to flinch away. against all odds, he stays.
the sound of dwight’s voice startles him, how this man seizes him with one breath. causes him to waver, mouth slightly agape as words struggle to escape him. oh, his name, what is his name ? lingers upon the question for a moment. ‘ what do you want it to be ? ’ he thinks to reply. his birth name is something foreign to him now, like it doesn’t quite belong, displaced & usurped by a concept, a construct of who he used to be. ( he has inhabited so many bodies, a ghost in search of a vessel / a cage, has nearly forgotten where he began. )
❛ ah... just danny is fine. ❟ eyes flicker away in his discomfort, feeling raw & vulnerable with his veneer stripped away. heat rises to the nape of his neck & he dips his head, laps at this terror, this shame of a secret discovered. ❛ you don’t need to use it, if you don’t want to. ❟