“That’s not what I—” Quentin huffed all the breath from his lungs, and was moving. Suddenly and without thinking. Crossing the distance between their bodies in a few quick strides. “Give me that.”
He snatched the cigarette from between Eliot’s fingers, pressed it to his lips. Inhaled, exhaled. Eliot’s gaze flitting over him, warm as the palms of his two magic hands. Their fingers knocking together when Quentin passed the cigarette back, immediately wishing that he hadn’t. Nothing left to do with his hands now but worry them together, fingers knotting like thick braids of rope, all white-knuckled tension and jutting bone.
Eliot stubbed the cigarette out, sent the ashtray fluttering away with a flourish of his hand. Swinging his legs around, bare feet pressing to the floor. No thought—Quentin lowered his body down onto the sofa, curving inward. Knee knocking into Eliot’s, and his mouth falling open.
time cast a spell on you (but you won’t forget me) | a queliot fic | now complete
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Just FYI this fic almost broke me, it was so heartbreakingly beautiful. I am still holding on and not reading the last 1000 words or so because I don’t want it to end yet.
Go read.
