Mar 21, 2019
you know what kills me? the way quentin looks at the monster sometimes — the way his gaze lingers on him, like he’s wondering if maybe eliot can see everything the monster sees, maybe eliot can see them, can see him; like he’s looking for eliot in the monster’s microexpressions, in every little line on his face, and feels the ghost of eliot’s touch where the monster pats his head or grabs his neck, because quentin knows now that eliot is alive and in there somewhere — and so he hopes that maybe next time those hazel eyes look into his, it’s not the monster he’s going to see.
