zlatko and jakob meet
i got possessed to write for these two dudes, it was originally just gonna be zlatko describing what jakob looks like but i got into the family dynamic
There was a sweaty white man on his sofa. He could only call him a man because he appeared the same age as Zlatko himself, who considered himself a man, but really he looked more like a boy, shrivelled and pathetic. His light brown hair stuck to his clammy forehead and he shuddered under the thick blanket (that was his, Zlatko noticed with a raised brow) that covered him and wrapped under his feet (it barely fit Zlatko anymore, mind the jealousy). This was definitely his mother’s doing - she couldn’t help herself from helping people, especially if they were her sons’ age. This may have been only the second time but it was twice too many.
He was pale, in both skin tone and sickness, with almost blue undertones, especially in the lips - he was confident enough to look at another man’s lips, yes - that were cracked and peeling (his mother would probably lend him lip balm when he woke up). His eyelashes, far darker than the hair on his head and closer to Zlatko’s, fluttered with every hoarse unconscious breath and bore dew drops of sweat that dripped like tears down his temples. He shifted in his sleep and it ran over his nose instead. If Zlatko were the type to give into his curiosity, he’d have leant over and lifted his eyelids to see the colour of his eyes, as he’d done as a little boy, but he’d long learnt restraint. Besides, he was cooking food. Couldn’t get distracted.
A white boy with brown hair. Wholly unremarkable if not for his sickness - and how he ended up on his sofa.
