The Wardrobe - 9. More of C's letterbits

[...] and you're on a quest for your handsome mind, it couldn't be better! Well, it could. But this is still awesome! I think a lot of you as well, and you were also the only motif I could think of when I stared at this canvas. "And so it shall be," methought, so thus my sketches are of you, with lots of black, dark blue, branches, and white patches for glinting. An act, in your own mind. Which I don't know as well as yourself, obviously, but I'll put into it everything I've come to know of it so far. I've never done anything like this. I hope I'll even finish it. At the very least it's an excellent project to spend all this energy on that your ghost accumulates.
For Yule dinner, that is probably going to be a bird. A goose or something. If not that, then venison. Fish would be great, too, but I'd be slapped by quite a few people if I served them fish for Yule, even if it is a huge carp. [...]
Being in your head is very cosy. I enjoy rolling around in all that dusky black awesomeness in there, and licking the prickly sparkly woodruffy glowing crystals. I'd like to stay a little longer, is that okay? I swear, I'll take the best care of everything and I won't break anything, I promise, solemnly, on my honour!
Oh yeah, and while you're in MY head, could you please start wearing clothes more often? It is getting quite distractive at times, you know, getting a little harder to be a gentleman and all...

[...]

Your glinting
C.

~

[...]

You know, a night-time walk through snow is awesome. It's such a big opportunity for dreaming stuff up. It's probably not normal to be this spacy, but I won't apologise for it anymore. To you, I wouldn't have anyway. You most probably don't mind.
Do you know why letting you go through a door first is not (only) gallantry? It's for watching you. Pure egotism.

[...]

Imagining you before and next to me,
your C.

~

[...] I'd much rather start on your C Loving Incubus idea than paint something that might be wrong.
The way you crept over me was beautifully shiversome. You're not safe [...] not in all respects, you know? [...] You in my lap was also what I thought about last night outside. In a changing room. It was nice picturing you shoving some jeans in my face and asking me to not be obstinate and try them on, and then following me into the changing room as I've just sat down to untie my boots, and without saying a word you climb onto my lap and start kissing me. It didn't go much further than that, I spent most of the time perfecting the details.
Because the first pieces of clothing you showed me were horrible. You rewarded my dark No with an amused smile that said something along the lines of "Good boy, you passed the test" or something. And then you gave me that other pair of jeans, said "Please, for me?" (I know I know, it's utterly domestic, obscenely banal, the whole scene, but... hmf...), I had to smile, took them and went into the next cubicle, sat down on the little bench there and bent down, and then you came, I looked up at you and sat up again, and you, completely serious, straddled me on the bench and kissed me. Well. That was... it. Yeah. Not too interesting. Nice, though. But embarrassingly trivial. But nice. And you asked, ha! Yeah. ... I'm rambling again. This didn't have to take up as many words as it did, haha...

~

[...] me devouring you in two or three ways is probably fine with you then. If you leave your thighs uncovered, I will eat from them, and be sorry for damaging your beauty, and be intoxicated by blood and flesh, and feed you a little of yourself when we kiss. Because your blood's just still in my mouth, you see?

I have no clear idea of my mind's architecture, but the ground will not be very soft. If you're not careful where you approach me, you may have to lie on rough old flagstones with lichen and twigs, or even a flight of iron or stone stairs, and either your back or your knees will be scraped [...]. But if you're alright with that, pick me out in this ruin whenever you feel like it.
I'm hungry. I need a bigger fix, a more concentrated dose [...]
Your own esurient
C.

~

I read your letter last night, but couldn't reply right away. It struck something, somehow, so words sort of, uhm. Weren't there.

It was like that one couple of Vivaldi times that incinerated a few synapses when I heard them the first time.

That's good, by the way, haha, don't worry. Very good. Thank you.

[...] In a very heated up way with tingly surges shooting through every sensitive place. The picture paved the way and then came those

sparkles

yeah.

I wish I knew a fast way to walk boots into compliance. It's not so much what they do to the heels that bothers me, it's more the way they feel like horrible clogs, so rigid and stiff, while the toes are bonked around in them like something trapped in a cave and shaken around.

[...]

Some experiments do go wrong, yeah. Ah well. It's still awesome salmon. I'm determined to like the mess I've made of it, since it's not really the cheapest of dead animal, and the packet I bought has the marine stewardship seal on it.

[...]

~

Cold out.

Warm in, warming you, ah, nice thought. With us in this snowy field and the black skeletons of treetops rising up around us against the dark blue sky that's slightly smudged with light in some places, and obscured by the snow that's falling. We're getting covered in it and make it something of a game to wipe it off our hats and hair and eyelashes, but not very often. We're frosted over and melting, frosting again, and I'm warming your lips, and my arms around your chest. And I feel like telling you beautiful things without saying anything, because it's so quiet, and there's nothing to be heard except some soft shifting when one of us moves.

[...]

The other thing was licorice? That's what my green fairy tastes of, at least.

~

I wavered. M.'s message surprised me in a mildly unpleasant way, he called me "old friend" in it, and I replied. With a simple thank you. It was noncommittal at least. It's very strange how he pretends that everything's fine and dandy after he treated us the way he did. But without a proper humble insight on his part and good proof of his maturity in dealings with others, or at least reliable stability, there's no danger of me treating him any friendlier than distantly polite. To delete his comment would be too personal, I'm not that emotional.

[...]

Very much yours,

C.