#t. brightman

[lcnelyday]

"what the hell are you doing here?" tomas stood in his pajamas, the cold wind blowing freely into his apartment, wrapping him in a sickeningly comfortable chill that he had come to expect from the other. "i thought you told me to go away?" @saudadexmses

[lcnelyday]

open to all - tomas brightman, 48 he/him, english professor & playwright

"i don't really celebrate any holiday to be perfectly honest." tomas ruffled his hair and scratched the back of his neck. he got different reactions to that news, though he often was surprised when he found out someone without kids still did the holiday spirit thing.

[hlfmoonshine]

open to anyone; ft tomas brightman, playwright & professor, absolute mess of a man

"did you come all the way over here just to tell me how much you hate me?" tomas asked, fingers still held over the keys, refusing to turn his gaze to them. he swallowed back pain, bitter and biting, metallic on his tongue. which mixed poorly with the bottle of wine he'd been conquering before they knocked on his door. he didn't have the energy to fight, he hadn't even had the energy to come to the door, just hollering out across the empty space of his apartment as he continued to play.

[hlfmoonshine]

@saudadexmses tomas & henry let me be your man.

"i booked the tickets." tomas said in a sing song tone he caught from too many years in the theatre department. he leaned in a pressed a soft kiss to henry's cheek, he was working on work things, grading papers possibly. tomas rounded the couch before sitting in front of henry. "in one week, we'll be on a flight to paris." the smile on his face was akin to a proud child who'd drawn their best portrait and hung it on the fridge. "and i got us really good seats to. it turns out that when you don't use your air miles, you can get seats in first class, so it'll be a proper honeymoon."