(no subject)

As always, Ru belongs to tsuki_no_bara, Erin and the city of Eden to cicirossi. Previous Trent can be found indexed here

This one is set a fortnight after the first outreach ballet class.

******** ******


“So – d’you think he might like you too?”

Trent did his best not to blush while elbowing her in the ribs.

“Vo! Shut up!” he shook his head.

They were crossing back over the small courtyard between the class room building and the dorm after the Saturday morning class, and he should probably be grateful that she’d waited until they were at least out of the building. The disdainful look Kaitleen shot the pair of them as she strode past made him wish Vo’d managed to wait longer still – say, like, forever. OK, so maybe that was asking too much, but still!

Vo grinned back sunnily,

“Aww – c’mon – he’s pretty cute – I mean kinda weird, with the hair and everything – but cute.”

( Read more... )

(no subject)

As always, Ru belongs to tsuki_no_bara, Erin and the city of Eden to cicirossi. Previous Trent can be found indexed here

This one is set a fortnight after the first outreach ballet class.

******** ******


“So – d’you think he might like you too?”

Trent did his best not to blush while elbowing her in the ribs.

“Vo! Shut up!” he shook his head.

They were crossing back over the small courtyard between the class room building and the dorm after the Saturday morning class, and he should probably be grateful that she’d waited until they were at least out of the building. The disdainful look Kaitleen shot the pair of them as she strode past made him wish Vo’d managed to wait longer still – say, like, forever. OK, so maybe that was asking too much, but still!

Vo grinned back sunnily,

“Aww – c’mon – he’s pretty cute – I mean kinda weird, with the hair and everything – but cute.”

( Read more... )

Drabble

A fire and a candle in the dark

Blankets rough against the skin of his knees, the heels of his hands, feather pillows in cool cream cotton, musty against his mouth.

Silence with only flames and heartbeats to live in it. Firm hands, large and dry and familiar, bruising his hip, his collar bone, his shoulder, manicured nails cutting crescents in his confusion.

Blood taste on his tongue, and bite marks in his skin, and if only he could have his lungs back connected to his brain, his lips, his central nervous system, he'd scream with the joy of it.

Drabble

A fire and a candle in the dark

Blankets rough against the skin of his knees, the heels of his hands, feather pillows in cool cream cotton, musty against his mouth.

Silence with only flames and heartbeats to live in it. Firm hands, large and dry and familiar, bruising his hip, his collar bone, his shoulder, manicured nails cutting crescents in his confusion.

Blood taste on his tongue, and bite marks in his skin, and if only he could have his lungs back connected to his brain, his lips, his central nervous system, he'd scream with the joy of it.