knox' observation causes him to realize the way he'd said that, and that he hadn't meant it that way. so in his mind, it was time to reword it.

he does, however, find himself watching the way knox moves and stretches. the moonlight catches his pale skin and white hair, makes those blue eyes pop with color-- electric.

"how about..."

careful contemplation, but only seconds linger between the words. and when he's made up his mind, he sits up to meet knox' gaze.

"i'm happy you stumbled into my life this evening."

knox prescott

he'd been asking for an invitation without meaning it. that's what he tells himself. even though he's looking up at the stars but not really seeing them and he's waiting, waiting, waiting for an answer. 

and he gets one. and he doesn't really know what to feel about that, because his heart is thump, thump, thumping away, and it's keening for more chemicals - synthetic or otherwise. after all, love's just another kind of addiction, isn't it? the second time, the thereafter, is never as magical, but it's the thrill in the falling, in suspense behind the silences. 

"i'm happy you stayed," he says, with a sense of finality. with acceptance. with promise. 

samuel carter

☉