On Bazzard's first Christmas in London, the thorn of anxiety is keenly felt, and then drawn out a little.
“Why do you wear your face like that?”
Nie Huaisang's hand comes up partway to Meng Yao's face before his fingers curl inwards. Meng Yao's eyes go wide and tremulous before the corners of his mouth curl into a small smile, like one of the soundless laughs shared between them in the midst of a banquet speech.
There are worse things than being lashed.
They do a lot of talking in the sweet air of the control room, about everything and nothing.
Tybalt and Mercutio were childhood friends, of a sort.
Evening is the customary time for intercourse, David has helpfully informed her, but it makes no difference here. Nothing makes any difference.
Desire can't move past, only onward.
Accountant AU! Frank is an accountant, Gerard is an artist. Romcom ensues
do they keep me afloat//or just wrap around my throat like a noose on a rope?//probably both