He prefers remembering the nights. They're nicer, blurrier, but somehow clearer too. He remembers the feel of things more than the actual actions. He remembers the heat and the pleasure, and even the pain. He remembers the fumbling, and how clumsy they both were at first, and how much better it was because of that. He remembers darkness and movement.
He likes remembering the early days. Light, too bright, and eyes meeting across a crowded room, smirking, knowing exactly what the other ways thinking. It was a secret, and everyone loves a secret. Significant touches that no one else would understand. Power, he had, to make someone blush and groan and sigh. All his, everything was his.
He hates remembering the later days. He hates remembering the first time he looked across the room to see him on the arm of some blond. He hates the hasty explanation in a back hallway, because apparently he never seemed serious enough. Because apparently it was all just a "friend thing" (whatever that means).
He hates remembering the feeling of powerlessness, the complete loss of everything good. He hates the emptiness.
He hates the indignation. Because he's the emperor! And that isn't how things should work. He hates remembering the darkness, and how even though it was never quite as good, the nights would so often be the same, just faster, more purposeful. He hates that in the end he was left alone.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-10-08 08:53 pm (UTC)He likes remembering the early days. Light, too bright, and eyes meeting across a crowded room, smirking, knowing exactly what the other ways thinking. It was a secret, and everyone loves a secret. Significant touches that no one else would understand. Power, he had, to make someone blush and groan and sigh. All his, everything was his.
He hates remembering the later days. He hates remembering the first time he looked across the room to see him on the arm of some blond. He hates the hasty explanation in a back hallway, because apparently he never seemed serious enough. Because apparently it was all just a "friend thing" (whatever that means).
He hates remembering the feeling of powerlessness, the complete loss of everything good. He hates the emptiness.
He hates the indignation. Because he's the emperor! And that isn't how things should work. He hates remembering the darkness, and how even though it was never quite as good, the nights would so often be the same, just faster, more purposeful. He hates that in the end he was left alone.
Most of all he hates Arram Draper.