ʙᴀʙʏ ᴀɴɢᴇʟ
▁
They resembled a masterpiece brought to life. Each brushstroke of their personalities unique, yet harmonizing seamlessly in a captivating rhythm. Intrigued beyond restraint, Aurelia's curiosity unfurled like an insatiable muse, compelli...
❝art is driven by emotions, and emotions make the madness in your work beautiful.❞
TW: mention of drugs usage and mention of self-inflicted injuries.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
▂
Not here.
Is the phrase Elijah continuously repeats in his head. It is the only thing keeping him from losing himself further into the moment with Andrew. Though his mind is telling him to stop their intimacy, stop this passionate kiss they both have been waiting for weeks to have, his body just couldn't listen to him. Or in this case, his inner conscience didn't want to stop it. Not this time. The phrase is louder, overpowering the logical one. He's no stranger to the thrills he experiences with Andrew.
When they were in their first two moments of dating, their sex drive was high, through the roof. Andrew wanted to sleep together after every dance practice, after every work shift, and even when they went to parties together. Of course, since Elijah had the stamina, he didn't mind it. He loves the thrill, he loves the thrill he gets when he and Andrew have risky moments like the one they are having now. On the wooden floor of a dance studio room. The same room Andrew had just been dancing in. The music is still on, loud, loud enough to keep their noises contained if they were to take it that far.
If Elijah allows it to go that far, He knows why Andrew pounced on him the moment he got inside the studio room. Even he wanted to pounce on him as well. Pin him against the mirror the moment he laid eyes on him. However, they have a lot to speak about, though he didn't want to talk about it here, he still believes the conversation needs to happen. They haven't seen each other until this point. The only thing he heard was his voice, and how sad his tone was over the phone. He missed dancing. He missed the university, but they blamed him for everything. They ruined the one thing he had to escape.
"Stop," Andrew complains into the kiss, while gripping the bottom of Elijah's shirt and pulling it over his head. "Fucking stop, Eli."
Elijah knows what he is telling him to stop for. He is telling him to focus on the moment, stop thinking. He couldn't though. No matter how exciting and thrilling this moment is, he has too many questions for him, questions that can ease his mind and worry less about him. Conversations that can make it easier for him to cope with this new lifestyle. One he had no choice to live now, because he knows Andrew. He's spending these days getting drunk and partying with the very people he shouldn't even be around.
Andrew pulls from the kiss abruptly, panting heavily. Their lips were swollen, their eyes dazed with lust and desire, and their heart racing quickly. His naturally wavy hair is curling from the sweat on his forehead from dancing for hours before he called him here. The mirrors her starting to fog up, from the moistness from the room. Elijah loves when he looks like this, but he really has to control himself at this moment.
