[ The ache hollowed out the insides of his heart, splattering the contents at the feet and yet even with all the longing and everything else, he stayed. He stayed because having anything of Rook meant more than having nothing at all. If it was only physical, it would be so much easier to quell and move past but the longing rested deeper than just skin moving against skin. It roamed along into the terrority or what could be, a possibility of something meaningful.
But he saw sides of Rook he knew no one else did. And he saw all that he could be. More than lust. More than a vessel for desires.
His eyes followed the movements of the paints, his body sinking more against Rook's as nearly a natural response to their closer proximity. ]
You've been holding out on me, Rook. It's beautiful already. When you finish I'll hang it on the wall.
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But he saw sides of Rook he knew no one else did. And he saw all that he could be. More than lust. More than a vessel for desires.
His eyes followed the movements of the paints, his body sinking more against Rook's as nearly a natural response to their closer proximity. ]
You've been holding out on me, Rook. It's beautiful already. When you finish I'll hang it on the wall.