says,
like the dastard he is, joseph’s touch BURNS. robert wants to retaliate and cower in fear. those baby blues aren’t the ones he’s fallen in love with. it’s idiotic to think of their pre-existence ; he frowns. he had always made it DIFFICULT to ignore, for his bones yearn and ache. he’s reminiscing of when he surrendered to the incandescence of joseph’s smile ; they were so young. as his thumb draws over the shape of his jaw, lips, ━━━ all wounds are UNSEALED. his heartbeats and breaths are inert ; tear droplets dry. internally he’s gasping for air. he can’t see past the DARK that’s he, provoking him, subtracting from what little he has. robert snivels. he never saw possible that a man could strike so much DESPAIR. he sweats, ❛ ..you’re not being yourself. ❜
[ soft ] edition / [ stroke ] for your muse to gently stoke my muse’s face ; accepting.