[ anger bites again, the echo of a glove already thrown: that wasn’t meant for you, ]
Until you read it.
[ he repeats, at last and aloud. the words taste like exertion. leander can assert whatever he likes, but love has never been on the table, only more than my affection —
hairs that split upon a pattern in the grain. unimportant, unexamined; until something else emerges, a shape from noise. isaac was never the point of it. irrelevant, still, to the central image. ]
What you’re trying to say is that he loved you.
[ as though that changes anything. stakes some greater claim, else puts them in on it together. the transitive property applied to some stupid, seasonal fling.
(as it will be, when he rewrites this; a month from now, a year. when ilias becomes just another name he doesn't say.) ]
no subject
Until you read it.
[ he repeats, at last and aloud. the words taste like exertion. leander can assert whatever he likes, but love has never been on the table, only more than my affection —
hairs that split upon a pattern in the grain. unimportant, unexamined; until something else emerges, a shape from noise. isaac was never the point of it. irrelevant, still, to the central image. ]
What you’re trying to say is that he loved you.
[ as though that changes anything. stakes some greater claim, else puts them in on it together. the transitive property applied to some stupid, seasonal fling.
(as it will be, when he rewrites this; a month from now, a year. when ilias becomes just another name he doesn't say.) ]