Send 👋 for three things that describe our muses relationship.
ONE. they say that your eyes dilate when you see someone you love, but that’s not the only cause. pupils can also widen or contract because of fear, variations in light, alcohol use, brain injury, motion sick medication---somehow in the head-pounding night clubs tommy so likes to attend, david thinks he feels all these at once, his feet and head sick and heavy as tommy darts around the room, dancing in what must be slow-motion to him, but seems so hard for the eye to catch to literally everyone else. he’s left breathless, glass-eyed and hungover at the end of every night together---and yet, he can never say no, he has too much fun. OR. pupils under strobe lights, pupils under starlight, new york is so much different than new jersey or chicago ‘cuz it’s just so fucking big and it belongs to them just like the whole fuckin’ world does.
TWO. when david was little---he once saw a man pull a white, fuzzy rabbit out of a hat, and he wondered how he did it. his powers hadn’t manifested, his brain was both quiet and enrapt. even as a smart child, smarter than some people would be their whole lifes, in david’s honest opinion----he couldn’t explain the wonder and the joy he felt at not knowing, and he couldn’t tell you how now, except that when he later found out how the trick worked, the magic fell apart in his hands like plucked whiskers and library book pages that he wanted to tear out at the seams and show the whole world---to shout out the fraudulent magic he’d seen at school to anyone who’d listen, the ultimate gacha to those who would DARE entertain & bewitch. ignorance can sometimes be bliss, and it can sometimes be better than finding out the secret of everything, and it’s a bliss forever out of david’s reach now, that feels even better than knowing-it-all.
likewise, spend enough time with the x-men, you learn that magic isn’t real at all even in a truer sense. every trick of the mutant gene has an internal logic, limitations, even david’s---or at least... it seems to. until david met tommy. the white rabbit you will never understand, that lets you hold him, that makes magic real again, not just because he and his family present mystery after mystery---but because there’s no explanation for the wonder & joy that tommy brings into david’s life, except that with tommy by his side---david never knows what’s going to happen next---and neither does tommy---but they’re already chronically at least three issues late and terriby underprepared for whatever beautiful, truly exciting adventure is on its way next. OR. just like the x-men, alice in wonderland was originally a jumbled political allegory. david has come to believe that magneto was right, but his cute grandson is even MORE right for him, simple & kind & sweet even when he’s rough around the edges and his hair desperately needs to be brushed out of his eyes.
and finally. hot coffee. hot, shaking caffienated hands that touch and claw and punch and hold. and noodles, every kind & shape & sauce they have in the cosmos, tangling together in a bowl, letting the steam fog up david’s glasses until tommy makes fun of him for it. the adventure begins & it never really ends. not if you don’t let it. not if you want it to last forever, mind over matter, thoughts melding over time---filling in the blank spaces until he’s back in his arms again & he once again understands nothing at all but the silence of what tommy doesn’t know, and tommy doesn’t know a whole lot, in all the best ways, because he doesn’t seem to mind all-too much.
