#𝟎𝟓 ... 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 ⭒ . ⋆ ❄ ∘ ⑇ * ﹙jean kirstein﹚ ... ◞

[yookimi]

eye contact, * pieck to jean.

𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 / accepting .

( a car crash . life & death . natural disasters . ) 𝐼𝑁𝑇𝐸𝑁𝑆𝐸 . a word that doesn't begin to describe it. every time he tries to reach out, to grasp it, to hold it in his hands — 𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒔 , he's too slow . it burns him up, flames that lick the insides of his gut, a heart 𝑖𝑔𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑑 , burning and charred with the avoidance , the tension held in the flesh , 𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 , festering beneath the skin and crawling all over . an itch, insistent on it's demands, 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉 , to feel .

𝐼𝑇𝑆 𝑇𝑂𝑂 𝑀𝑈𝐶𝐻 𝐼𝑇𝑆 𝑇𝑂𝑂 𝑀𝑈𝐶𝐻 𝐼𝑇𝑆 𝑇𝑂𝑂 𝑀𝑈𝐶𝐻

there is something deeply 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 in the hold of the eyes. 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑤 𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑙 . and his soul is stripped bare . magnetised. his body the south pole, hers the north. it's an indomitable force now, where hands would normally shake , where lips would tremble , he is a beacon of confidence.

it's a move of 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 that leads him to hands held in an easy grip, one on the waist and the bed of the opposite palm hugging the soft jaw . 𝐵𝐸𝐴𝑈𝑇𝐼𝐹𝑈𝐿 — it's not much of an after thought, in reality it's a thought that is constant. it's something that has been written into the code of his 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 , natural to the way it beats ╱ ᵇᵃ ⁻ ᵇᵘᵐᵖ ˒ ᵇᵃ ⁻ ᵇᵘᵐᵖ ˒ ᵇᵃ ⁻ ᵇᵘᵐᵖ ╱ to the way blood pumps through the chambers, it only takes 45 seconds to circulate in it's entirety. 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖧𝖨𝖲 𝖧𝖤𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝖱𝖠𝖢𝖤𝖲 , against it's cage it rattles. jean isn't too sure he'll ever catch up to it at this point, his movements reflect his race , 𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘺 and fever induced .

𝑠𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑘 is the mold , open mouthed and hot . however , still , as is his nature, it's benign. the wait is worth the bounty. heaven. elysium . nirvana . 𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑒𝑛𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ. not for this. he's drowning, the emotion invoked through his pulse and it feels like nothing he's ever felt — but he stops. realization dawning over the man like the sun and the moon , how they drape themselves over the earth every day. an apology fast at his tongue , ❛ i'm sorry , uh — ❜ but he has no excuses, nothing he can blame it on . so a laugh echoes from his lips, jubilance still carried in the person. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐥𝐲, he plays with a strand of her hair , eyelids halfing hazel , ❛ — i've wanted to do that for so long . . . ❜ a confession whispered in the space between , 𝑎𝑛𝑥𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 is the spirit.