deep brown eyes and honeyed skin, bathing in a river in the last days of summer, breathing in warm air the scent of jasmine, sucking on strawberries in the midday heat, dripping lemon essence into ice water
he knows alex. he knows his punctuality, the way he prioritizes anything to do with work. do these letters count as work to him? or does he write them in his free time, whenever he catches a break from his nightly routine of writing?
that could explain it. washington tends to pile up on the work he assigns, in advance for the flood of vacation days that always vacate the office during the summer. his strategy is to get as much done as possible while everyone’s still there.
it’s a good strategy, but one that’s hated by nearly everyone in the office. it means hours of work, regular overtimes, and more coffee than one would normally deem appropriate.
still, as thomas watches the stars begin to pierce through the darkening sky, he can’t help but wonder.
how is alex dealing with this distance?
he wishes he could see him again. hear his voice, spend a sleepless night with him; talking until three or four in the morning, even if they’ve got work the next day.
he misses it. it feels as if he’s been pulled from something great, something life changing, before it had even really begun.
he’ll write another letter, he concludes, rounding a corner and smiling vaguely at a street vendor as he passes by. maybe his first one had gotten lost in the mail. maybe that was why alex wasn’t responding.
in any case, hearing from him again might help alex. hell, it might help them both. lord knows they need some way to deal with this distance, this daunting ocean between them.
he slips his hands into his coat pockets. the evenings tend to be significantly cooler than they were back home. he’d forgotten that.
he’ll write another letter.
he’ll write another letter, and he won’t worry about alex, because really, it’s been a week; what could have happened?
when ur hanging out in ur apartment u’ve got some candles lit ur feeling good u’ve had 8 glasses of wine then down in the street u hear two beautiful boys skateboarding or doing flips or something so u invite them up and they say where’s the bed and they ask if they can sit on the bed and u tell them sure but the sheets are expensive japanese linen and they tell u they’re not even soft: