// i saw the walls, finished and plain //
Perhaps there’s a part of Thorn that’s worried if he tells him to do too many things that the end result would be out of sheer obligation rather than want. So it’s this steady push and pull he’s trying, knowing that if he told him to stay that the bartender would. But was it fair? Thorn had always been a king of consent, and while he thinks he can read Casimir’s face well enough – let alone the other man having enough brawn to physically do whatever he wants compared to the willowy frame of the shorter, thinner man.
He doesn’t know Casimir well enough to know that he’s lying about the color yellow. And unfortunately (or fortunately) for the bartender, that just means he’ll have to put up with all the yellow things Thorn will inevitably get for him until he might think he’s drowning in a sea of gold. It’s face value, and Thorn’s smile brightens with it as he nods. “Mine’s pink ‘n purple.” Because of course he has to have two. He likes the vibrant pink hues of flowers and the purple of the sunset when the sun’s finally dipped below the horizon.
He reaches out now to take Casimir’s hand back into his, tangling his fingers with his and squeezing them lightly. His gaze flicks up to scan the bartender’s face, feeling the flush before it comes. His cheeks are bright red by the time his voice paints the air. “Maybe I need t’be more direct.” He starts off, swallowing down the essential word salad he wants to give the other man. “I’m gonna get to know you. I like you. I like this. I want this. So if it ain’t somethin’ you want, you’re gonna have to tell me.”
He doesn’t know Casimir well enough to know that he’s lying about the color yellow. And unfortunately (or fortunately) for the bartender, that just means he’ll have to put up with all the yellow things Thorn will inevitably get for him until he might think he’s drowning in a sea of gold. It’s face value, and Thorn’s smile brightens with it as he nods. “Mine’s pink ‘n purple.” Because of course he has to have two. He likes the vibrant pink hues of flowers and the purple of the sunset when the sun’s finally dipped below the horizon.
He reaches out now to take Casimir’s hand back into his, tangling his fingers with his and squeezing them lightly. His gaze flicks up to scan the bartender’s face, feeling the flush before it comes. His cheeks are bright red by the time his voice paints the air. “Maybe I need t’be more direct.” He starts off, swallowing down the essential word salad he wants to give the other man. “I’m gonna get to know you. I like you. I like this. I want this. So if it ain’t somethin’ you want, you’re gonna have to tell me.”
Hawthorn
// lavender blooms on the ink of my name //
