@photogenc : ' what is it that you feel and see when we are together? ' in clear reference to jhin's own golden prosthetic, what does it feel to simply take in the hand of a fellow romanticist killer? even as 'twere, such gesture takes the form of intimacy. and in reference to his face. how it feels when stefano entwine breath with cold, faux lips. when stefano caresses jhin's unblemished cheeks.
at least humour a curious mind, ti amo. is what stefano kept to himself, favoring silence. awaiting for his answer expectedly.
another song flutters through his ears, the harmony is there but not completely there. he cannot decide whether or not he suits the disharmony, the metal absence, or utterly despises it. khada jhin contemplates, and the orchids wither as he does. their glass vases are translucent, all-there but still somehow empty. soon enough he is pulled out of his own reverie. the fraying ends of music are cut by stefano’s sharp yet intimate voice.
❝ i feel … ❞ he is not struck wordless, speechless nor made silent. to feel is enough, one might think, and it is true. to feel and be felt is enough — but it isn’t, is it? no. never. red follows distinct ivory contours, a finger tipping along the patterns and marks, as if tracing heartlines. ❝ … seen. ❞ he does not suck in a breath, but he would like to. only so much can be present, only he can be so much. drawn out moments are no more than a few more seconds before golden fingertips, sickle-like in shape, rest upon stefano’s wrist. ❝ i feel known and heard. ❞
at last.