played by ASTERISK
with 41 for
// APP
& PLOT
|
Mar 13, 2015 19:46:43 GMT
Post by TATE OWENS on Mar 13, 2015 19:46:43 GMT
he's ten minutes early, sitting on a bench that overlooks the duck pond. the water is still, glittering and crystalline in the winter's afternoon light. usually the scene would inspire peaceful contentment, a cool balm on his heart—but, waiting for jonah, anticipation prickles over his skin instead. it's hard to tell if it's excitement exactly, or dread. tate can't recall the last time he made plans to do something with a—a friend. he looks down, over the heavy scarf wound around his neck, and studies his hands in his lap, the bitten cuticles, the twitchy fingers. without his knowledge they're pulling at a loose thread on the hem of his sweater. tate stops them, folds them together. he can't help wondering if jonah would be disappointed when they finally meet. if jonah would come at all. |
|
played by KITTEN
with 66 for
|
Mar 13, 2015 21:03:27 GMT
Post by JONAH STERLING on Mar 13, 2015 21:03:27 GMT
the day has come at long last. months of agonizing virtual conversation extend now to the world outside, the world of flesh and blood. face to face, at last, they'll meet though jonah knows tate from distance and stolen photographs, his obsession. snow pops like rice crispies beneath his boots. it sparkles too like glitter poured on the ground, white and reflective. he's visualizing the view of the pond, glassy, almost mirror-like. tate is there, waiting on a bench. the threads of his sweater coming loose in his fidgeting hands. its a picture he would have taken, plastered on his wall with the rest. not today. the winds chills sneak in to the gaps in his jacket's zipper, through the holes of his sweater. he rubs his hands together, shoving them into his jean pockets as he saunters into view. he's late by three minutes. deliberate so as not to seem too eager. "i hope you weren't waiting long," he speaks in a pleasantly lilting voice, lips half curled in a crooked smile. "tate, right?" TATE OWENS |
|
played by ASTERISK
with 41 for
// APP
& PLOT
|
Post by TATE OWENS on Mar 14, 2015 2:58:34 GMT
his heart leaps when he looks up and there's a man standing there, hair white as snow, eyes warm as embers. it leaps and lodges somewhere in his throat, presses on his windpipe. he blinks fast, dumbly, and gathers up his words. "yes," tate manages to get out, suddenly self-conscious of the hoarse crack of his voice set against jonah's melodic lilt. then he amends, clarifies, "no, i wasn't waiting long." he stands up, unsure of how to proceed. his hands fall to his sides. "...jonah? it's nice to meet you. in person, i mean." |
|
played by KITTEN
with 66 for
|
Post by JONAH STERLING on Mar 14, 2015 3:37:41 GMT
so close. the living, breathing thing is much different than frozen images preserved in glossy 5 x 8s, much different than the moving, distant figure. no amount of zoom can prepare him for the real thing, tate in person. he chuckles. there’s charm in tate’s flustered face, his cracking voice. jonah’s completely taken away by it. “don’t be so nervous. i don’t bite.” the distance between them closed with a few calculated strides. he pulls a pale, translucent hand from his pockets, holding it for tate to take. “i’m happy we finally have the chance to meet in person. i’ve looked forward to this day.” TATE OWENS |
|
played by ASTERISK
with 41 for
// APP
& PLOT
|
Post by TATE OWENS on Mar 15, 2015 1:07:59 GMT
this close, he doesn't dare look at jonah directly, blindingly bright, like reflected sunlight off fresh snow. he averts his eyes, peeks out from under lowered lashes, takes furtive glimpses. tate partially feels like he could flee, and it might be fear that's locked his joints, keeping him in place, or something else. he wants to stay, wants to make a good impression, so he grasps the proffered hand formally, as firmly as he can. jonah's hand is thin, warm; his fingers long, elegant. tate notices the shape of his knuckles and the little crescent moons instead of meeting jonah's gaze. "i am too." his voice barely quavers. "i've really enjoyed our text conversations." |
|
played by KITTEN
with 66 for
|
Post by JONAH STERLING on Mar 15, 2015 3:54:22 GMT
coy, eyes turned away yet sneaking glances through thick lashes. so sweet this timid brunet is. his eyes glue to him, watch him relentlessly. jonah can’t get enough. his cool palm presses to his, fingers clammy. the nerves radiate through him, jonah can almost feel them pulsing in his hand. but Jonah is the opposite, unperturbed. he’s the still pond behind them, the calm blue skies stretching endless and unchanging. if he could impart a piece of his own disposition by mere touch he would. “let’s walk.” releasing his hand now, he gestures at the park. “shall we?” TATE OWENS |
|
played by ASTERISK
with 41 for
// APP
& PLOT
|
Post by TATE OWENS on Mar 16, 2015 2:46:26 GMT
the heat's drawn away. unconsciously, his fingers stray to worry at loose threading again. there's a vacancy in his chest that he doesn't quite understand, a maelstrom of snow flurries in the pit of his stomach. "yes," he nods. they set off at a leisurely pace. tate lapses into habitual silence, before realizing there are things he wants to ask, know about jonah. clumsily, he plucks the thought fluttering nearest to reach. "your photographs," tate blurts out. "um, i've seen them in magazines. they're really good." he tries for a meek smile. |
|
played by KITTEN
with 66 for
|
Post by JONAH STERLING on Mar 16, 2015 4:22:00 GMT
beauty surrounds them in frosty trees and luminous blankets of snow. the perfect backdrop. he couldn’t ask for a more perfect setting, so picturesque like tate was when he first saw him, like he saw him on the bench. jonah doesn’t have to watch him through a zoomed in lens now. he’s beside him, a companion. he wears his happiness. it’s a mantle over his lithe form, a radiance in the crooked smile adorning his face. tate, here beside him, seem equally as happy in that bashful way of his, and it fuels him. like pieces of kindle to fire, they feed the embers of affection. warmth spreads through him, through his veins. every inch is him is touched by it. jonah doesn’t even mind the silence. simply being this close is enough for him, yet he is equally glad to hear his voice. but the words make his heart skip a beat—his photographs—the ones on his walls, of tate? “you have?” ripples move through him, and the calm. stillness returns as if nothing had been disturbed at all. “i’m surprised you knew they were mine. not many people pay attention to those details.” he pauses long enough to let tate walk side by side. “thank you. perhaps i could take a picture of you in this park someday.” TATE OWENS |
|
played by ASTERISK
with 41 for
// APP
& PLOT
|
Post by TATE OWENS on Mar 17, 2015 2:42:51 GMT
his gaze flits from snow-topped tree to cumulus cloud, skims the glazed pond, always returns to the man walking beside him. at jonah's voiced surprise tate flushes, faintly, reaches up to adjust the draping of his scarf. he wonders if it had been an odd thing to say, or intrusive, or offensive, or— then jonah finishes talking and he has to backtrack, stumbling over the last sentence as the meaning behind the words sinks in. be the subject of a photograph? the very idea's alien to his reasoning. it fails to fit properly no matter how he turns and flips it, like a defective puzzle piece. his brow furrows, he bites his lip. "me? but... i'm not anyone famous or..." tate trails off. the rest doesn't need to be said to be understood. |
|
played by KITTEN
with 66 for
|
Post by JONAH STERLING on Mar 18, 2015 0:42:24 GMT
the ease blood rushes beneath frost kissed cheeks, the unconscious adjusting of his scarf. little tics he could never observe in distance lay bare, feed obsession. an urge to reach out, to touch him, becomes overpowering. he knows control and knows it well. so he refrains, keeps his hands at his side. there’s a delay in answering. he’s staring fondly at the brunet, unable to pull his brain from admiration to form words. each blink like a camera shutter captured each second. “fame has nothing to do with it.” taking pictures of tate is what he’s done all along—from afar without permission. “your face inspires me. i get excited looking at you, and i want nothing more than to take pictures of you. will you let me sometime?” TATE OWENS |
|
