(The cat will go for all the soft tissue first. Not pretty.)
Armand has insisted on this turn of conversation, he knows, but still acknowledges the beat of self-consciousness in himself. Daniel, as flippant and sarcastic and deflective as anyone Armand has met, and so maybe it's justified, some fear of verbalising the vulnerable for what will become of it after. Laughed at, ignored, dismissed.
But it hasn't really been that way, particularly not when Daniel settles on asking him a question. So, alright. He considers the answer, the usual suspects of why a person may find an older man attractive. Age as virtue, as signs of experience, as authority and frailty in one thing, and isn't all that true anyway? Puts it aside, opens his mouth to speak.
"Because you're handsome," he says. "Because I like the way you're put together. I like your body and the way you move it. Even when you were mortal, ailing, you seemed strong to me beneath it. I liked to watch your hands when they weren't trembling. I like it even more now that I've made you stronger."
He can imagine this litany being a little unbearable. He hopes so. Words beneath the skin. "I like that you've been turned at the age that you are. I'm bored of the ones turned young, kept that way, of youth like that. I don't think I could touch one and feel something, anymore."
They were talking about drawing. But also not. Also talking of preservation. Of having. Still, to answer the question, "I want to show you. The things I see."
no subject
Armand has insisted on this turn of conversation, he knows, but still acknowledges the beat of self-consciousness in himself. Daniel, as flippant and sarcastic and deflective as anyone Armand has met, and so maybe it's justified, some fear of verbalising the vulnerable for what will become of it after. Laughed at, ignored, dismissed.
But it hasn't really been that way, particularly not when Daniel settles on asking him a question. So, alright. He considers the answer, the usual suspects of why a person may find an older man attractive. Age as virtue, as signs of experience, as authority and frailty in one thing, and isn't all that true anyway? Puts it aside, opens his mouth to speak.
"Because you're handsome," he says. "Because I like the way you're put together. I like your body and the way you move it. Even when you were mortal, ailing, you seemed strong to me beneath it. I liked to watch your hands when they weren't trembling. I like it even more now that I've made you stronger."
He can imagine this litany being a little unbearable. He hopes so. Words beneath the skin. "I like that you've been turned at the age that you are. I'm bored of the ones turned young, kept that way, of youth like that. I don't think I could touch one and feel something, anymore."
They were talking about drawing. But also not. Also talking of preservation. Of having. Still, to answer the question, "I want to show you. The things I see."