[ They are a merged blur together over dunes and ripples of salt water licking up to dry sand, in turn, as Tommy cuts and weaves a path through deepening nightfall. It is a fraction of his top speeds because he is careful with his new and enchanting passenger; he appreciates the way Mark knows implicitly to tuck himself tightly into his own tall shape, protected against any real harm the velocity could do to flesh not made to withstand it. He appreciates it mostly because, the realization dawns, he feels an inexplicable urge to do the same, himself. Protect Mark. Free him, shield him, lead him astray and then home again.
The crow of delight in his ear sounds so purely effervescent that it pulls laughter up from his own chest like bubbles to the surface of waves that were once too still and quiet.
Yes, he wants to protect that sound, that feeling; make it happen again. Tomorrow, and the next day. He would carry this glass warrior across oceans to hear that joyful timbre directed at him.
When he finally slows, comes to a careful halt, and they are both facing each other at the water’s edge, Tommy quickly finds himself towering over the other boy without having moved, his hand grasped and held captive. Mark is bowing, and he is at once confused and profoundly awed.
He sinks to his knees before him after a stunned silence, and he pulls his hand free, only to carefully pull the goggles from Mark’s head. To possess the full scope of all the planes of his unearthly face. ]
…Who are you?
[ Tommy does not ask with the hope of an actual explanation. There is simply no other way to voice how mystified he is to see a dream breathe itself to life in front of him. ]
no subject
The crow of delight in his ear sounds so purely effervescent that it pulls laughter up from his own chest like bubbles to the surface of waves that were once too still and quiet.
Yes, he wants to protect that sound, that feeling; make it happen again. Tomorrow, and the next day. He would carry this glass warrior across oceans to hear that joyful timbre directed at him.
When he finally slows, comes to a careful halt, and they are both facing each other at the water’s edge, Tommy quickly finds himself towering over the other boy without having moved, his hand grasped and held captive. Mark is bowing, and he is at once confused and profoundly awed.
He sinks to his knees before him after a stunned silence, and he pulls his hand free, only to carefully pull the goggles from Mark’s head. To possess the full scope of all the planes of his unearthly face. ]
…Who are you?
[ Tommy does not ask with the hope of an actual explanation. There is simply no other way to voice how mystified he is to see a dream breathe itself to life in front of him. ]