anyway: midnight pauses. he tugs kaveh in. his hands feel for the dry ends of kaveh's hair. kaveh looks at him. for a moment, panic rolls through kaveh helplessly as if a predator through a shoal of fish, three hundred shimmering lithe bodies in coordinated chaos as their bodies carve open between them a senseless void. what did kaveh forget? he'd dressed properly, he'd put on foundation, he had on hand-cream and a scarf for the still-purple bruise. kaveh didn't forget anything, and then kaveh remembers - his clips. he had given them to netzach. he hadn't had time to make new ones.
kaveh opens his mouth. he closes it. the panic is down to the pit of his gut, where it swims like something silverine and cold and trapped. ]
Both of us. [ he repeats. it's an impasse. it's an impasse with attitude. kaveh's expression flits between seven distinct emotions before it settles on a cross between exasperated and frustrated. in the silence that stretches, kaveh and midnight have thirty different permutations of the same argument, culminating in this: that's you, and there's me. midnight knows too much. kaveh is bare. the truth of the matter is this: kaveh hadn't expected midnight to be here.
finally, with the weariness of a hibernating creature lumbering in spring, kaveh closes his mouth. his jaw tightens with it. ]
GOD..... YEAH............................ rubs face... dog on the moon....
anyway: midnight pauses. he tugs kaveh in. his hands feel for the dry ends of kaveh's hair. kaveh looks at him. for a moment, panic rolls through kaveh helplessly as if a predator through a shoal of fish, three hundred shimmering lithe bodies in coordinated chaos as their bodies carve open between them a senseless void. what did kaveh forget? he'd dressed properly, he'd put on foundation, he had on hand-cream and a scarf for the still-purple bruise. kaveh didn't forget anything, and then kaveh remembers - his clips. he had given them to netzach. he hadn't had time to make new ones.
kaveh opens his mouth. he closes it. the panic is down to the pit of his gut, where it swims like something silverine and cold and trapped. ]
Both of us. [ he repeats. it's an impasse. it's an impasse with attitude. kaveh's expression flits between seven distinct emotions before it settles on a cross between exasperated and frustrated. in the silence that stretches, kaveh and midnight have thirty different permutations of the same argument, culminating in this: that's you, and there's me. midnight knows too much. kaveh is bare. the truth of the matter is this: kaveh hadn't expected midnight to be here.
finally, with the weariness of a hibernating creature lumbering in spring, kaveh closes his mouth. his jaw tightens with it. ]
No more than an hour.
[ it's not a swing. it's a frustrated tap. ]