no more craving, wanting, waiting for the inevitable loneliness. waiting instead for his smile and his touch and his laugh and golden eyes and seeing that color, only that color every time he closed his eyes. he could have been a painter in a different life (and he was, somewhere, out there, in a world not this one) and he would have known how to make the gold work with the blue. 

how not to turn it into a ruddy brown. 

has he ruined it? by missing him and by being here and by touching jayden's waist and telling him all of these important secrets, only his lips are moving and no sounds are coming out? or is he singing? he's singing soundlessly to the music and jayden's asking him more questions. 

"like fire and ice and it burns, jay. it burns and you keep asking for more, more, more, as frost wells in your throat, because it fills you up and it's everything. without it, them, all that space is empty and you're left spinning out of orbit - 

"colliding." his hips hit his brusquely, hand splayed over the small of his back. he tilts his chin up, smiles with watery eyes, and on the drop he's slipped free, twisting around and head flung back. 

jostled by the bodies around him, feeling his atoms vibrating. 

"this is feeling alive."

jayden cross

☉

[attr="class","littlejay"] "it... it burns?"

[break][break] jayden knows what it's like to burn. to burn alive by the touch of another person, but it is not in the way that knox prescott may think. it is probably closer to the way Elisabeth Fiorelli knows it to be.

[break][break] the countless tribulations and trials of being dmitri's son, after all, was no small feat. while he did not have any lasting burns, except for the smell of scalding flesh, it was merely enough to have that memory to want to flinch away from such an endeavor.

[break][break] the colors blurs on the dance floor as he sways to the beat of the music, dragged by none other than knox. it doesn't occur to him that this is wrong, could be wrong. this isn't anything - this is knox. knox and jay and knox and jay and knox and jay — they are simply recycling old memories.

[break][break] and plus -

[break][break] knox prescott doesn't make him feel the way fern delaney does.

[break][break] maybe once, a long time ago. but not anymore.

[break][break] "they don't make me burn," he says instead, tugging the other back with his forearm. fingertips splayed against his. "they soothe. it's like running your hand under cold water after being set on fire for so long."

[break][break] after hurting.

[break][break] "come on knox," he said, with a ghost of a smile on his lips. the night is still young but for them, the night is ending. it's about time that he lets knox prescott fly into samuel carter's arms again. back towards ultra space.

[break][break] "let's go home."

[break]

[attr="class","ooc"] knox prescott

☉