#pyxwrites

[pyx3l]

| i. A Fleeting Sense.

“𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑎𝑠 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎𝑠 𝐼 𝑑𝑖𝑑, 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑚𝑎𝑧𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑜𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑒.”

Michael Imani Aldene & Whitley Clarke Reeves.

A long night had pursued the two men, as they’d hopped from bar to bar, restaurant after restaurant, even opting for a coffee somewhere along the way. All in good fun, showing each other the little places they’d found and enjoyed. The night was ending, and Whitley seemed to be hinting he wanted to walk Michael home. That in itself was a problem. Allowing him into his apartment would be allowing him into his life, to see his secret. Michael wasn’t well off, as fancy-lived as his aura, his taste in fashion persuaded. 

It was a dumpy studio in the slums, the cheapest that Michael could work with. He’d managed to make it look nice, sure, but that part of the city was swallowed in bad reputation. Mostly for drugs and thieves, there were hostiles and the like that found refuge in this corner. Michael was no better, his residence would only prove that further. Since he was alone, he never minded to clean up, and he couldn’t allow himself to admit his addiction to Whitley. Not yet, anyway. Michael wasn’t sure if Whitley was just a fleeting moment, or if he was here to stay. 

“Let’s stop here for a sec,” Michael said, stopping in his tracks. He gave a click glance to Whitley, and pressed over to the railing of the bridge they were crossing. 

His heart was racing, he didn’t want to go any further, he couldn’t make himself. Michael fidgeting with his hands in his coat pocket, pulling out his pack of cigarettes. Passing one to Whitley who’s artisan figure leaned over the guard rail, and pressing one in between his own lips. Whitley was quick to be of service, and pressed his notable zippo lighter he’d always kept in the chest pocket of his blazers. Politely he lit Michael’s first and shortly after his own. For a while it was just quiet, but they seemed to have found solace in that. Michael was thinking of how to break the silence and evade taking Whitley home. As much as he needed to, he didn’t really want to. He was actually beginning to like Whitley, in more ways than he could have imagined. 

It felt like he had been staring at the shifting water of the river below them forever now, most of his cigarette burnt up, but he took a few more hits before throwing it into the water and turning to face Whitley. He eyed him slowly before narrowing them, and exhaling the last bit of smoke. 

“What’s your angle?” Michael asked finally. 

“My angle? I don’t have an angle,” Whitley dragged on the remaining cigarette slowly and turned his head toward Michael. He gave a faint smile. Both his arms were propped up on the rail, using the free one to push his glasses up delicately. 

Michael’s face went plain, flicking the cigarette from Whitley’s hand and grabbing it so they’d face each other body to body. He looked up at him, and made clear that he was to be taken seriously. 

“What do you want from me? You’ve been dragging me around this city for weeks, I woke up in your apartment on the first night. You pretend like nothing happened, and,” Michael stopped, letting go of the man's arm. 

Finally his gaze broke away and he looked down and scratched at his neck nervously. Whitley’s index finger trailed the jawline of Michael’s face before stopping at his chin and lifting his head up. After the eye contact was reassured once more, both his hands pressed carefully but tightly on both Michael’s arms. 

“I want nothing more than to know you. Do you not remember the first night?” Whitley pouted as he noted the expression he was leaving on the other person's face. It came to realization, Michael *didn’t* know what happened. 

“I didn’t sleep with you,” he said softly. “After you showed me the rooftop of that place to watch the sun rise, we stopped to catch a bus. I wasn’t going to take you home, but you fell asleep at the bench and I didn’t know your address,” Whitley explained, and wanted to explain more. But he had stopped himself, worried that Michael might not believe him. “I didn’t want to leave you on the bench. It gets cold at night. And you have a pretty snore,” Whitley made light, and moved his hand to palm the side of Michael’s face lovingly. 

He watched as the man leaned into the touch, before pushing back and frowning. Michael didn’t know what to think, how to feel, he just needed space. Whitley’s hand clinged onto Michael’s wrist delicately, as an attempt to keep in distance. 

“Mia, if what you’re wanting is for me to confess my feelings, tell me. I like you, but I don’t want to rush that,” Whitley commented one last time, pulling his hand back as Michael threw his hand into his hair and shook his head. 

“I don’t know, Whitley. You don’t know me, I don’t know you. I need to think, please.” Michael whined, and shifted in stance. It was killing him. Whitley didn’t even know his real name, and Michael was just embracing the façade. 

“I want to know you,” he said softly, watching as his company began to leave. Whitley knew not to pursue, he’d give the man his time to think. If Michael wanted what Whitley was offering, they had already exchanged numbers, and Michael knew the spots he frequented. 

Writer's Notes:

(be nice this is my first time publicly posting my own writing when not roleplaying.) Michael is like one of my first ever ocs... so being able to share some writing I've had racked in my brain for him for 7+ years so exciting. I hope u guys enjoy sad gay shit as much as i do. 2/21/2023, 5:10am ~ Pyx <3

[pyx3l]

Ladies & Germs!

I'm Pyxis, or you can call me Jonas! (they/him, please!) I'm 18 years old and my favorite color is green! I have been writing & roleplaying for 7 years, going on 8! I am new to tumblr for use as a roleplay media, but not new to tumblr itself! (the sims cc blog degenerate moment..) I am semi-lit to novella. I write about 250-700 words per response, typically mirroring what your last response was! I always try to give you the same amount you give me, or if we're on the same page, constantly trying to one up each other! I love striving for growth as a writer, so I adore it when my partners are also looking for a challenge. My favorite genres are: medieval dark fantasy, modern (with some kind of sub-genre), angst, drama, action, and in general fantasy itself. i also dabble very lightly in sci-fi or apocalyptic genres if they are something i am interested in! The only roleplays im heavily against or have no interest in are: roleplay with minors (i do not feel comfortable writing with characters/users under my own age.) superhero rps, im sorry :( they are just not my cup of tea! non-con, kidnapping, any rps that result in heavily implied no-consent with one or more characters. I do not do fandom roleplays unless I play an oc. I can think of any fandoms I'd roleplay at the moment, but if I ever get the craving for them I'll tag it appropriately. I am a discord only roleplayer. I also host & create my own servers! I've been in server creation & staffing on discord for three years. I will write about aus, storylines, and my ocs here as well as roleplay requests/posts between! Once I have enough going on I'll organize posts by storyline/au so that they are easier to digest. I also do custom templates for google docs or discord servers! We can do a trade (art for template, etc!) or you can just commission me through cashapp. You'll be able to see references of my work as I become more active on tumblr! I might make a comms post in the future once I can expand to art comms as well.