Standing before me was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. Everything about the stranger radiated sensual grace and ease. High Fae, no doubt. His short black hair gleamed like a raven’s feathers, off-setting his pale skin and blue eyes so deep they were violet, even in the firelight. They twinkled with amusement as he beheld me.
His clothes - all black, all finely made - were cut close enough to his body that I could see how magnificent he was. As if he’d been molded from the night itself.
“Don’t look directly at the sun or you will go blind.”
Well, you are the sun.
And I keep looking, looking, looking,
Until my eyes burn and tears fall down my cheeks,
But I do not close my eyes.
You burn so brightly I can still see you clearly behind my eyelids when my night falls because I live for your light and I cannot let you go, and even if I will turn blind I want you to be the last thing I’ll ever see, your hand clasped in mine.
A love letter to you from the Moon, from Dionysus, from Grantaire.