Tumgik
#((and y'know i admit; i sometimes find myself imagining broadway as just a long string of theaters and art houses))
theheadlessgroom · 1 year
Text
https://www.tumblr.com/beatingheart-bride/715448548820484096/theheadlessgroom-beatingheart-bride
@beatingheart-bride
“O-Oh,” Randall nodded as he set down his candle, allowing him to better see her as he grabbed the stool he’d left earlier, sitting on it so that they could see eye-to-eye.
For a moment, he was mesmerized by her eyeshine: He knew some creatures, such as alligators, had them (having seen the shine of a gator’s eyes a couple times in his life); Dorian once told him the scientific term, tapetum lucidum, a funny word he struggled to pronounce when he first saw it, and had long forgotten until he looked at her now, in the dimness of the bathroom. Her eyes had a sort of rose-gold glow to them that was haunting in its presentation (once again reminding him of an alligator lurking just barely on the surface, watching laxly from its place in the water), and yet beautiful in its own right. He felt as if he could look at that shine forever.
Snapping out of his reverie, he remembered himself, and so he stooped to pick up the little bowl; there was plenty in there. Shyly, Randall looked up at Emily, then to the bowl in his hands, and then back to her, asking softly, “D-Do you, u-um...d-do you want me to, um, p-put more o-on?” He repeated the rub action, well aware of how warm his cheeks were as he asked her this, absentmindedly fidgeting with the bowl all the while.
6 notes · View notes