The ngày was gloomy, and it showed on two young males who couldn't decide what to do, thinking the other would think of something…maybe think of something at the very least. Keith Clay sighed, taking his hand off the phim chiếu rạp that were neatly lined up according to their titles, and put his hands in his black jeans, walking back to the đi văng where his boyfriend, Gus Grav, sat.
"I can't think of nothing Gus." Keith said, falling onto his đít, mông, ass onto the couch, his arms behind his head.
Gus looked at him, and sighed.
"I guess weather really does affect peoples moods." He said, putting his hand on his...

|But I tình yêu you, isn't that enough? No, he said, it's not.|

-x-

When Mira is five, her yêu thích things are hoa and cross-stitches in leather and the color green.

When she is fifteen, her yêu thích things are memories of a world that wasn't covered in earthquakes' goodbye-kisses, and clothes without zippers, and a face behind that mask.

When Spectra is born, Keith does not remember anything.

-x-

So he tries to be patient and tell her in measured eight-count beats that no, he is not her brother, instead of flippantly disregarding her like he does everyone else. This is not Spectra's sympathy (for...

He awoke to blurred darkness, soft breaths, and a thick lock of hair clinging to his jaw.

There was a brief flash of irate confusion when his hand refused to come up to brush it away; it took a moment for Spectra to realize that it was trapped beneath the áo, áo khoác that wrapped around him protectively.

With a groggy growl, he shifted his arm beneath the heavy fabric – and froze when a light mumble answered the movement, and the warmth he now registered against his shoulder shifted.

Breathing sharply in surprise, he twisted his neck to the side; dusky blue and the haggard face of his companion greeted...