lips curl with the intent to disguise the ivory points beneath them. he is concealed by flickering candlelight, fingers pressed into a hollowed cheek. were he completely in the dark his eyes might glow and glimmer with shades of purple, gray or blue. the fine and dapper fop that sits across from him is boyishly handsome, containing thoughts of the NEW WORLD and beauty now unveiled. of course, he loved to listen to them think about him. loved as they observed those golden girls and his trademark cheshire smile.
❝ not parisian, not d’orleans. south of the volcanic hills, monsieur. of a place with little name. ❞ one finger drags itself across his lower lip, head cocked to one side. his wineglass goes untouched, filled to the brim with fruit-scented carmine that pooled and rippled. he was a perfect picture waiting to be painted, and this brunet would likely try with that prying and curious mind of his. preserve the image of lestat, of the vampire gone awry. ❝ you will forgive me, i trust. i’m learning to speak more pleasing english as the nights go on. ❞
HE’S ENRAPTURED, TOO EASILY, A FLOUNDERING fish hooked and reeled in, but Dorian seeks out the beautiful, and this man has certainly provided that, enough to catch Dorian’s eye and draw him over. But it’s not just the beauty, not just that smooth skin and the perfect curls of his hair. There is a kinship here, something he can’t quite put his finger on, but it’s there nonetheless, flickering away between them like a dying candle, something dark and twisted and far more ALLURING that the handsome visage in front of him. ❛ Arresting though surely, for all the lost places are, places hidden away with no one there to speak its name. ❜
Eyes never leave the steady gaze placed on him, they don’t move to track the gesture of the other man’s digits, because he doesn’t want to seem dull, predicatable, following the same well worn paths as other MORTAL men. No, as entertaining as the evening is, Dorian is not going to spoil it so hastily with carnal pleasures, not yet at least. ❛ Nothing to forgive. I’m certain you know plenty of pleasing things to say, monsieur, your lips are too beautiful for ugly words. ❜
pixelskylines
stormborns
