[ That’s the night falling in on itself, silence turned into a roaring.
There’s a thought about the glimpse of starlight flaring brilliant, so bright it feel like hope itself, only to collapse in on itself, turning potentiality to void.
So much for beautiful daydreams.
Fucking… Right.
His head feels heavy now. And he thinks he’s nearer to sober than he’d like.
Still. Still, it could be worse. Still, the words, professions in that message reach into his heart and settle there, only further stoke the glow blossomed through their text exchange, this growing more-than-interest in Vitaly Kozak.
There’s kindness in this man, and heart, that’s sure. And what Nova feels above all else is a bleakness settling downward; sorrow for Vitaly, and sorrow for himself. ]
Right. Yeah. Right.
Fuck. Yeah, nah, that’s [ … ] on me, that is. Get too far ahead of myself, that’s a known fact
Should’ve asked
Should’ve known
[ … ]
Going to miss that word.
Your name.
[ He lets himself speak it aloud, two times, five times more.
No harm saying it however many times he wants this night.
No harm going to sleep with it on his lips
No more harm than’s been done already, fuck. ]
…Fuck, going to miss ‘Vevay,’ just as well.
[ He looks over what he’s written, knows there’s no cause for sending any of that. Knows he’s not given to accepting any kind of end, not so easy, no when something draws so strong as this does, as Vitaly does.
There’s no call to stop speaking, or end talk because a man happens to be married. Nova needs a minute, that’s all. Needs to let the first pangs pass and keep himself from driving any unintended knife. ]
Still here, myself.
[ … ]
Gathering my pieces my voice. There’s more to follow, know that.
Talik. Vitaly. Don’t be so hard on yourself, hey?
[ He closes his eyes, drops a hand across his brow. Breathes, and gathers himself. ]
1/2
There’s a thought about the glimpse of starlight flaring brilliant, so bright it feel like hope itself, only to collapse in on itself, turning potentiality to void.
So much for beautiful daydreams.
Fucking… Right.
His head feels heavy now. And he thinks he’s nearer to sober than he’d like.
Still. Still, it could be worse. Still, the words, professions in that message reach into his heart and settle there, only further stoke the glow blossomed through their text exchange, this growing more-than-interest in Vitaly Kozak.
There’s kindness in this man, and heart, that’s sure. And what Nova feels above all else is a bleakness settling downward; sorrow for Vitaly, and sorrow for himself. ]
Right. Yeah. Right.
Fuck. Yeah, nah, that’s [ … ] on me, that is. Get too far ahead of myself, that’s a known fact
Should’ve asked
Should’ve known[ … ]
Going to miss that word.
Your name.
[ He lets himself speak it aloud, two times, five times more.
No harm saying it however many times he wants this night.
No harm going to sleep with it on his lips
No more harm than’s been done already, fuck. ]
…Fuck, going to miss ‘Vevay,’ just as well.[ He looks over what he’s written, knows there’s no cause for sending any of that. Knows he’s not given to accepting any kind of end, not so easy, no when something draws so strong as this does, as Vitaly does.
There’s no call to stop speaking, or end talk because a man happens to be married. Nova needs a minute, that’s all. Needs to let the first pangs pass and keep himself from driving any unintended knife. ]
Still here, myself.
[ … ]
Gathering
my piecesmy voice. There’s more to follow, know that.Talik.Vitaly. Don’t be so hard on yourself, hey?[ He closes his eyes, drops a hand across his brow. Breathes, and gathers himself. ]