#ik we both talk but SKSKS I KNOW THIS IS LONG!!!!!!

[oedipusrexs]

for: @fvlsegcd 

location: the beach 

  Samson was detained by converging twilight on the beach -- breathing in the deepening calm, the coolness of departing light mellowing him. There rankled a suspicion in his heart he was not alone; and of course, it was him there. Fitz's feet were firmly planted against alabaster sand, a force of nature sunshine now could not win over with simmering heat. Again and again and again, those eyes met his -- but offering nothing, they withdrew. Samson wished he could have dared to be near him; but he lived in perpetual fear his presence would evince indignation from Fitz. He longed to speak now -- he dared not whisper. Degrees of separation that summer had changed their relationship, but not in the manner he had painfully anticipated. Those warm words, though only warm in estrangement, breathed life on the frail frost-work of Samson's being. Fitz seemed to know that even if he only deigned to speak of himself, Samson's wish would always be satisfied.     For Samson's part, there was only one avenue of recourse now; he had to expiate his palpable feelings or he would not sleep that night. In a poorly executed attempt at indifference, Samson approached Fitz with his eyes upon the foaming waves; only until they stood within arms reach, did he meet the heat of his gaze.. He was powerless to deny himself the delight of indulging Fitz's most vicious moods, and being a pliant thing, to his will. Sometimes Fitz was prone to vindictive pleasures and harassed him; in-spite of Samson's desire to only hear and bear all, Fitz struck so expertly against the flint of whatever stamina Samson owned. In a strange and new phase, an utterly selfish one, Samson coveted this, too. He had lived in perpetual fear of a singular thing that would change him, an angst engrained in his nature. Fitz bore something in him -- but he did not know if he yielded himself to this singular path, if he would be asked to parted with his identity. "You always feel taller when your shoes are off -- is it an American thing, or is it just a party trick to spite me?" Samson did not wish to reflect much on the tenderness that marked his tone; he would rather invest in dissecting Fitz's reply, something he felt he knew by heart. Fitz would first offer a spare, but expressive answer -- and if Samson was lucky, a smile would wander around his lips, an expression that felt either blithe or critical. "I heard a girl at dinner speaking about some whirlwind love affair that's left her anchor-less; seemed like your type of scene -- but we've never discussed, whether you're infatuated with gingers or not. It'll be another thing to add to my list of shortcomings, if you are."