09-28-2012, 11:42 AM
Jeezus! I am so sorry for the wait!
Sebastian felt cold. He had always been cold. He had never felt true warmth, not even in another's embrace, not even in sleep. Alder was the opposite. He was always warm and kind, a sharp contrast to the artist's barbed sarcasm and sharp tongue. Alder was unlike him. Sebastian had never truly felt at ease. He always saw attempts to bring him down, to hurt him, and had always stopped them before they came to fruition.
Alder was different. He was always good. He was good. Always trying to find the goodness in others because he had never been anything else. He even found the goodness inside the Italian, the goodness usually hidden with a sharp tongue and evasive mind.
Was it so surprising that Alder would want to make him better? He did anyway, whether he wanted to or not. He made Sebastian want to be better.
That word. Love. Not something he had ever felt himself. Lust, envy, spite. All were familiar to him. True happiness eluded him. Love was a dream. Perhaps he could not love. Perhaps what he felt for Alder was the closest he could get to love. But it didn't matter.
Sebastian stepped forward, his movements jerky and unsure. How could he be sure? Sebastian pressed himself against Alder's broad chest, his arms encircling the taller man's torso in a tight hug as he pressed the side of his face to the messy-haired male's chest.
"If you put your arms around me," he whispered, closing his eyes as tears threatened to spill over, "I am not going to let go."
Sebastian felt cold. He had always been cold. He had never felt true warmth, not even in another's embrace, not even in sleep. Alder was the opposite. He was always warm and kind, a sharp contrast to the artist's barbed sarcasm and sharp tongue. Alder was unlike him. Sebastian had never truly felt at ease. He always saw attempts to bring him down, to hurt him, and had always stopped them before they came to fruition.
Alder was different. He was always good. He was good. Always trying to find the goodness in others because he had never been anything else. He even found the goodness inside the Italian, the goodness usually hidden with a sharp tongue and evasive mind.
Was it so surprising that Alder would want to make him better? He did anyway, whether he wanted to or not. He made Sebastian want to be better.
That word. Love. Not something he had ever felt himself. Lust, envy, spite. All were familiar to him. True happiness eluded him. Love was a dream. Perhaps he could not love. Perhaps what he felt for Alder was the closest he could get to love. But it didn't matter.
Sebastian stepped forward, his movements jerky and unsure. How could he be sure? Sebastian pressed himself against Alder's broad chest, his arms encircling the taller man's torso in a tight hug as he pressed the side of his face to the messy-haired male's chest.
"If you put your arms around me," he whispered, closing his eyes as tears threatened to spill over, "I am not going to let go."