54 + ed, 51 + oswald, 18 + them together
Nygmobblepot: 18. Red wine stained lips (from this list)
(a.k.a. if Ed had bothered to SHOW UP FOR DINNER)
Ed’s knowledge of Oswald’s dining habits had proven accurate; the quite excellent bottle of Syrah he’d brought was a perfect complement to the veritable feast laid out between them. It was a dusky, complex pairing, offset by delightful twists in flavor and an enticing peppery tingle that made the dark meats and sweet syrups sing.
Perhaps it wouldn’t have been what Oswald would have thought to choose, but nonetheless, he was on his second large glass. Ed was swirling what remained of his first.
The silence was full-bodied. It weighed heavy in the home they shared, in the comfort of their decadence. It would have felt ungrateful to disturb the thick, velvet blanket of safety draped around them, but Ed could feel the wine’s magic pricking at his fingertips, warm at the base of his neck, soft and bright in his face, and the silence wasn’t enough.
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