manlet: (Default)
h.c. andersen | professional simp ([personal profile] manlet) wrote in [community profile] inkwreaths 2019-08-14 05:48 am (UTC)

[Blood roars in Hans's ears. His heart feels like a horse in his chest, kicking at his ribs hard and fast.

How many times have they teased this phrase? I adore you. You have my heart. If only I were a woman... They were effusive, certainly, but they still tread the fine line that was permitted to them. Those aren't words that should be given to someone like him, an awkward amphibian who pined after the right and wrong sex.

(if life tears them apart and forces them to grow up, to enter society the way a proper man should with a wife on his arm, it would be far better to write this relationship off as an errant whim of youth. if it's love-- if it's love, then--)

Hans's grip on Edmond's hand tightens.]


That's something only a fool would say.

[His words are weak.]

I'm a poet, Edmond. If you say something like that, I'll believe you. I won't let you forget it. Do you mean it?

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