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metamorphosis2012-02-22 08:59 pm
flair) wrote in metamorphosis2012-02-22 08:59 pm
Entry tags:
316;
Title: side a
Characters: Luca Milda, Spada Belforma
Rating: G
51/365. dumbshit high school thing.
For the next few nights, Luca lays thinking about the kiss; his fingers drift to his lips and rub them quietly every so often, and when he notices he chews on his nails instead. It hadn't felt-- wrong or anything (maybe because of the company he did it with) and he hadn't wanted to push him away or leave or anything. He frowns a little and squints his eyes at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling, a faint whiteish-green against the rough, white texture, and tries to reach for one again. There's a shooting star – or one that's supposed to represent it, how silly – and he remembers when he used to think that if he caught it, that maybe his wishes would come true.
He wishes he still thought like that; maybe it'd give him a little help with what he feels now. Twisty and turny, knotty and awful; he's confused, because he hadn't not liked kissing Spada (being kissed by Spada) and it's just – he doesn't know how he's supposed to feel. Kissing a guy isn't his usual thing, isn't what he'd expect to like at all, and he can't imagine liking it if it were someone else. He groans and then gives a start at the sound of his window creaking open, berating himself for leaving it cracked and watches the familiar intruder slip in and shut it behind him. He licks his lips and sits up, pressing his back against the wall; Spada takes a seat beside him, and there's nothing but the silence and the pounding of his heart in his ears.
“What're you doin' still up?” Spada asks at last, watching Luca out of the corner of his eye; Luca shrugs and draws his legs up to his chest. He plays with the edge of the blanket, stealing glances, then sighs and sits up slowly, a worried frown pressing his lips together.
“What are you doing here?”
It's Spada's turn to shrug, and he lets his eyes drift back to the window just as Luca lays his cheek on his shoulder and watches him. “Just wanted to come by and see if you were doin' all right, I guess. Girls said they ain't seen you at school.”
“I've been sick.” It's a lie, but he looks it (and feels it) so he's sure he'll get away with it; Spada gives him a strange look before turning back to the window, deciding not to comment on it. It's almost enough to make him breathe a sigh of relief, but the jig'll be up if he does that. “I was just thinking. Sleeping's not really been good to me lately.”
“Nightmares or something?” Spada shifts closer, inquisitively sliding his hands across the blanket to brush against his, and Luca's heart jumps into his throat unexpectedly. He half nods, biting the insides of his cheeks, thinking of how to answer before settling on the least damning.
“Or... or something.”
Characters: Luca Milda, Spada Belforma
Rating: G
51/365. dumbshit high school thing.
For the next few nights, Luca lays thinking about the kiss; his fingers drift to his lips and rub them quietly every so often, and when he notices he chews on his nails instead. It hadn't felt-- wrong or anything (maybe because of the company he did it with) and he hadn't wanted to push him away or leave or anything. He frowns a little and squints his eyes at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling, a faint whiteish-green against the rough, white texture, and tries to reach for one again. There's a shooting star – or one that's supposed to represent it, how silly – and he remembers when he used to think that if he caught it, that maybe his wishes would come true.
He wishes he still thought like that; maybe it'd give him a little help with what he feels now. Twisty and turny, knotty and awful; he's confused, because he hadn't not liked kissing Spada (being kissed by Spada) and it's just – he doesn't know how he's supposed to feel. Kissing a guy isn't his usual thing, isn't what he'd expect to like at all, and he can't imagine liking it if it were someone else. He groans and then gives a start at the sound of his window creaking open, berating himself for leaving it cracked and watches the familiar intruder slip in and shut it behind him. He licks his lips and sits up, pressing his back against the wall; Spada takes a seat beside him, and there's nothing but the silence and the pounding of his heart in his ears.
“What're you doin' still up?” Spada asks at last, watching Luca out of the corner of his eye; Luca shrugs and draws his legs up to his chest. He plays with the edge of the blanket, stealing glances, then sighs and sits up slowly, a worried frown pressing his lips together.
“What are you doing here?”
It's Spada's turn to shrug, and he lets his eyes drift back to the window just as Luca lays his cheek on his shoulder and watches him. “Just wanted to come by and see if you were doin' all right, I guess. Girls said they ain't seen you at school.”
“I've been sick.” It's a lie, but he looks it (and feels it) so he's sure he'll get away with it; Spada gives him a strange look before turning back to the window, deciding not to comment on it. It's almost enough to make him breathe a sigh of relief, but the jig'll be up if he does that. “I was just thinking. Sleeping's not really been good to me lately.”
“Nightmares or something?” Spada shifts closer, inquisitively sliding his hands across the blanket to brush against his, and Luca's heart jumps into his throat unexpectedly. He half nods, biting the insides of his cheeks, thinking of how to answer before settling on the least damning.
“Or... or something.”