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31_days2005-08-24 09:47 pm
moderntime.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2005-08-24 09:47 pm
[August 24th] [T.E. Lawrence / Lord Peter Wimsey] What is not written
Title: What is not written
Day/Theme: August 24th / I am waylaid by Beauty
Series: Lord Peter Wimsey mystery series and um, the secret history of Seven Pillars of Wisdom XD
Characters: T.E. Lawrence, Lord Peter Wimsey
Rating: PG
Lawrence knows this can’t last forever, but he thinks he’ll always remember this moment.
The late afternoon light in the room has the pure quality of a Vermeer painting. The young man sprawled in Lawrence’s bed has fallen asleep, limbs neatly draped over open pages of Herodotus. Outside, Oxford is drowsily relaxing into the evening, the stones and mortar keeping their peace.
Lawrence closes his book and sets it beside him
“Peter.” Lawrence touches the other man’s shoulder. “Don’t hurt the book,” he says quietly, drawing the Histories out from underneath.
“Hmmm…?” Peter turns over and opens his eyes expressively. “Oh, it’s you,” he murmurs. He turns again, falls back asleep.
Lawrence knows this can’t last forever, that they might have another argument in the evening, that this time it might be the last.
Carefully he presses his fingers along Wimsey’s back, the rich sensation of finely woven silk and the ridges of bones smooth beneath his fingers. He’s looking for something: redemption, a promise, an answer. Lawrence himself hardly knows what it is he seeks, but in this moment his inner demons are silenced.
Day/Theme: August 24th / I am waylaid by Beauty
Series: Lord Peter Wimsey mystery series and um, the secret history of Seven Pillars of Wisdom XD
Characters: T.E. Lawrence, Lord Peter Wimsey
Rating: PG
Lawrence knows this can’t last forever, but he thinks he’ll always remember this moment.
The late afternoon light in the room has the pure quality of a Vermeer painting. The young man sprawled in Lawrence’s bed has fallen asleep, limbs neatly draped over open pages of Herodotus. Outside, Oxford is drowsily relaxing into the evening, the stones and mortar keeping their peace.
Lawrence closes his book and sets it beside him
“Peter.” Lawrence touches the other man’s shoulder. “Don’t hurt the book,” he says quietly, drawing the Histories out from underneath.
“Hmmm…?” Peter turns over and opens his eyes expressively. “Oh, it’s you,” he murmurs. He turns again, falls back asleep.
Lawrence knows this can’t last forever, that they might have another argument in the evening, that this time it might be the last.
Carefully he presses his fingers along Wimsey’s back, the rich sensation of finely woven silk and the ridges of bones smooth beneath his fingers. He’s looking for something: redemption, a promise, an answer. Lawrence himself hardly knows what it is he seeks, but in this moment his inner demons are silenced.