my gift for @shipps-in-this-room
a little moodboard about-what-between 👉🏼👈🏼
Nick's routine was a repetition of what he had already learned, rituals for self-soothing, a garish mix of bad and good habits. The blurred patches of memory were sometimes reflected in his morning coffee, and he swallowed their bitterness quickly and without much thoughts. Having built his life around his work, Nick quickly realized that it was easier to ignore this exasperating _hunger_ than to risk with one-time flings. At some point, almost everyone on the edge of his perception turned into faceless shadows, devoid of personality. He couldn't feel them. Whether it was another mental breakdown or a high-quality autosuggestion, it didn't matter. Nick was fine.
Nick began to smile genuinely. What had once exhausted him and made his facial muscles tremble had become natural. Jack was soft, and the problem was that Nick had felt him—too quickly, too... quietly. His anxious awareness of surroundings often drove Nick crazy, but with Jack by his side, it was as if his brain had finally found someone to focus on. And soon - to trust.
The edge of limerence was sharp and thin.
