tfln open post

[byanyname]

***

either leave a message (or set of muses) for one of my assholes, or request a message from one of them. choose messages from the classic source, from your own skull, or whatever you may please.

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[ultimatenegative]

I am not ogling them from across the room.

Ogling suggests some sort of nefariously sexual intent, and doing so now pursuant to satiation would be indecent. No, Darius. I am gazing. Staring, even. Wondering at them.

I am admiring them.

How the light strikes them like some divine glow. How they possess the room, no matter where they happen to be. How they smile at me.

At me.

My god, at me.

Do you remember the first time I met them? No, it must have been mundane to you, and perhaps has passed from your memory: just another night when 'Renault' was in your flat. But me. Darius, the world heaved beneath me. I was twenty; I had no fucking idea what I wanted - men, women, nothing, neither. I'd never taken interest in anyone for more than a moment or two. I thought I was too clever for that nonsense. Above it.

Hubris.

There was Rin in your doorway, looking like a crime of fashion (and possibly capable of other crimes, spawned of that godforsaken attitude of theirs), and the world stood absolutely still before it quaked. Shuddered me. Took all I knew and did nothing with it, only vanished it, as though Rin was an eclipse across my mind.

Upheaval and a midday nightfall. An apocalypse of the soul.

The ancients who wrote of angelic heralds - beautiful, terrifying, magnificent - must have known Rins of their own. That perfect creature.

I don't dare ogle them.

My Rin.

Christ. Darius. "My Rin".

[...]

And also. I am not technically employed by Rin. 'Gainful' is a misnomer. But were I gainfully employed, it would be included in the terms of said employment that I am to spend no less than ten minutes of every hour giving them my admiration, my appreciation, my attention - and, were I so inclined, my 'ogling'.

It is Rin, after all. :)

My Rin.