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theseshipsshallsail · 3 years

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Chapter 1

The revelry from the bookstore leaves a heady buzz of la libertà flowing through their veins, and as the crescent moon climbs higher in a pin-pricked sky, Rome’s labyrinthine streets bear witness to the loss of their remaining inhibitions. Drunken kisses give way to drunken dancing - and unfortunate drunken vomiting - but the ancient cobbles are their compass on this ferragosto evening, steering them back to the complicit safety of their hotel.

The stale scent of sex still lingers in the room, yet tempted as they are to add to it, the prospect of their imminent separation is a sobering force. Elio’s body is heavy with exhaustion. The oppressive tightness in his chest magnified by all that he’s trying to ignore. Their time is borrowed. Soon, all of this will be naught but memory. The man beside him nothing but a ghost. Haunting his every step with visions of a life denied. A future obfuscated by what-ifs and maybes.

He refuses to sleep, however. Refuses to sacrifice a single minute to unconsciousness in spite of the grappa’s siren call. Absurd though it is, a part of him dreads waking up alone. That Oliver will disappear like a thief in the night - taking what’s left of his shattered heart with him. His guards are down - all his pretences stripped away - but here they are, stretched out on a too-small bed, solemn fingers caressing familiar skin. Worshipping each other by words, if not by the flesh.

And it isn’t easy. Of course it isn’t. Elio’s an individuo reservato. A trait he’s uncomfortably aware of. But he can’t let that stop him from spilling his innermost thoughts. From divulging the things he wishes he’d done differently. Or not at all. In some aspects, he’s sure he’s repeating himself, but there’s just so much he needs Oliver to hear. Things he never dared tell him previously - never deemed vital - when the end of their summer idyll was a nebulous concept.

Like how he’d leave the adjoining door open at night, hoping beyond hope that Oliver would walk through it. Or that afternoon at the tennis courts, when he’d recoiled from his massage for fear of leaning into the frisson of excitement. Needs him to understand his visceral reaction the morning after they first slept together. The crippling anxiety that twisted his intentions, necessitating a hasty - if short-lived - retreat. Wants to beg him not to forget. To remember everything. So that when next he tastes the salt-tang of the ocean upon his lips, the sweetness of apricot juice beneath a cloudless yonder, a piece of Elio - nevermind how fleeting - will slip into that parallel life, too.

All his secrets.

All his worries.

All he’s put off for later.

A futile notion, admittedly, now that there is no later.

No more chance for postponement.

Thankfully, he isn’t the only one speaking, and Oliver lays his own regrets out like a hand of cards whenever he stumbles into a tongue-tied silence. His forearm is slung around his waist, their legs tangled at the knees, and Elio drowns in his eyes as he recalls the steely glares that once pierced him to the core, but which he now appreciates were a means of self-defence. An attempt to stave off the unavoidable.

“Did you mean it?” he whispers, twisting Oliver’s Star of David between his fingertips as he burrows into the sticky warmth of his neck. “When you said you’d been happy here?”

“How can you even ask me that?”

“How can I not?” Elio replies, failing to control the tremor in his voice. “You tried to keep your distance when you arrived. It was me who sought you out. If I hadn’t pushed so hard -”

“I’d have probably spent ten more days kicking myself for my cowardice,” Oliver tells him, dropping kisses to his knuckles as though they’re something to be cherished. “Wearing holes in my espadrilles… trying to hide a semi each time you passed by in those swim trunks...”

Elio snorts. “The feeling’s mutual, mon ami.”

“So we’re both idiots, then?”

“Well… one of us was being purposefully difficult...”

“Goose,” Oliver growls, and Elio giggles despite himself when he’s tickled without mercy. “I’ll show you purposefully difficult.”

It soon devolves into a childish wrestling match, Elio’s wrists pinned above him as Oliver scrabbles along his sides, leaving him bow-taut and winded. “Tutto apposto! Enough!”

“You give?”

“I give,” he says, lungs heaving in his chest. “Dio… I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Nonsense.” Oliver rolls to the side, tipping his chin up to better meet his eyes. ”This is new to us both. It’s only natural to have doubts.”

Elio huffs. “Doubt is the father of inventions.”

“And may I ask what you’re inventing?”

An awkward shrug. “Nothing,” Elio says, afraid his misgivings will lead them down a destructive path. “And everything. You know how my brain works.”

“I do, yes.” Oliver brushes a thumb over his bottom lip. “Though for my sins, I’ve yet to find cause for complaint.”

“Déviant.”

“Takes one to know one.”

Elio nips at the tormenting digit, not quite ready to let the subject go. “I want to hear it,” he murmurs, teeth scraping the nail. “I think I need to hear it.”

“Elio…”

“Just tell me,” he insists, and sighing, Oliver pinches the bridge of his nose.

“It’s complicated.”

“Isn’t it always?”

Impatience flares at the return of his evasiveness, and the remorse in Oliver’s gaze is immediate. “We never talked much about my family, did we?” he asks, and Elio shakes his head, shuffling closer as Oliver draws a shuddering breath. “My parents, they’re.... well. To describe them as traditional would be a kindness,” he continues. “Our relationship has been strained for years, but they have certain... expectations, I suppose. For my future, specifically. You know how it is.”

“Do I?” Elio asks, stiffening as I'm sure I'll pay for it somehow echoed from the not so distant past.

The implication is clear, and maybe there are razor blades in his expression, because Oliver’s own turns instantly apologetic. “I guess not,” he says, sliding a conciliatory hand to his hip. “Do you have any idea how lucky you are?”

Elio frowns. “In what way?”

“With your folks,” Oliver explains. “My father would cart me off to a correctional facility.” A beat. “He still might.”

“Only if he finds out,” his traitorous mouth blurts before his alleged genius can catch up, and Elio’s heart sinks. “But he won’t, will he?”

It’s less a question, more a statement, and Oliver’s jaw clenches as he stares at him in silent concession. “I wish things could be different.”

“I know,” Elio says, the words braver than the sentiment behind them. “Me too.”

But the universe isn’t that lenient. Like Icarus, they’ve flown too near to the sun, and the consequences of such defiance will see their wings clipped once they crash back down to earth. He’d cautioned himself on the journey south to prepare for the blow. Peered out the grimy window of the direttissimo, knowing that when he next stands on the platform he’ll be alone. That he’ll hate it. Those rehearsals, it seems, have done little to dull the pain of what’s to come, and latent superstition has left him fumbling in the dark, regardless.

“E’ la vita,” Elio says, resorting to self-preservation as he dredges up a smile - the over-bright, false one he’s perfected through years of dinner drudgery. “Why risk it all for a bit of fun, right?”

“Don’t do that.” Apparently Elio’s not the only one who can see through a facade. “You mean more to me than some fling, and you know it.”

“But -”

“No. Hear me out.” Earnest, Oliver smooths the hair from Elio’s temple. “These past six weeks… I don’t know how to describe how important they were to me. The freedom. The acceptance.” His throat bobs in the grey strokes of dawn. “You.”

“Me?”

“Us.” Oliver fidgets with a loose thread on Elio’s shirt. “I meant it,” he mutters at last, winding an errant curl around the index finger of his other hand. “I have been happy here. I’ve been happy with you.” He hesitates. A quick flash of indecision. “I’m not sure I was ever really happy before you.”

“Please don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Per carità! That only makes it worse,” Elio says, whirling away to hide in Oliver’s collar. The sour musk of sweat is soaked into the material, and he inhales deeply, hoarding every piece of him while he still can. “You are the very best parts of me,” he confesses, lifting his head. “I don’t know what I’ll do when -”

“Hey…” Oliver’s grip tightens. “Didn’t we go over this? You’ll be -”

“Fine. You said.”

“Clearly it bears repeating.”

Elio touches his face. Watches the ripples of emotion spread out like a pebble cast into the lake. “And you?” he returns, recollecting that night on the rock. His naivety in presuming Oliver’s ghost wouldn’t always be staring out at the horizon. Rodin’s Thinker clad in billowy cotton. “You’ll be okay?”

A breath. “I’ll be okay.”

Elio’s not sure which of them he’s trying to convince, so he kisses him gently in lieu of examining it further, his stomach flipping when Oliver pulls back with an air of exquisite softness. “What time do we need to be at the airport?” he asks, seeking sanctuary in distraction. “You have your passport, sì?”

“I do,” Oliver says, studying him carefully. “The plane leaves at noon. But don’t feel you have to -” He stops. Swallows. Tries again. “You don’t have to see me off. Not if you don’t want -”

“I want.”

“Elio -”

“Non essere ridicolo. I’m coming,” he tells him, fighting a shiver as the cool breeze from the window brings goosebumps to his skin. “Of course I’m coming.”

The relentless tick of the clock rings loud in the sudden silence, and Elio raises up on his elbow, only for Oliver to cup his cheek before he can turn towards the wall.

“Don’t look,” he whispers, sounding choked as he double checks the time on his watch. “It’s ten minutes fast at any rate.”

“Ten minutes?” Elio laughs. Slightly unhinged. “What difference does that make? Ten? Twenty? You still have to leave.”

He detests the unspoken word that hovers between them. The entire phrase a sullen admission of weakness: you still have to leave me.

“Don’t think of it like that,” Oliver murmurs, one hand stroking the base of his spine. ”We have a few hours yet.”

Elio sniffs. “Not like they’ll matter tomorrow.”

“Maybe not. But they matter right now.” Oliver nudges their foreheads together. “Every second, Elio.”

“Every second, Elio,” he echoes numbly, if only to call him by his name one last time.

He’s shaking, he realises, though in all honesty he doesn’t care that his vulnerabilities are on display. That Oliver can see how lost in him he really is. That the situation is gutting him, and he’s unable to stop the bleeding. His chest feels concave. The space below his ribs too small to contain the sheer need and protectiveness that washes through him. He wants to shelter Oliver from the storm that lies ahead. To house him beneath his breast where the burdens of this world cannot touch him. Encapsulate everything Oliver is within the confines of himself, meagre as those confines might be.

But what can he do? Implore him to stay? Ask him to give up his doctorate? His career? His responsibilities? And for what? A life in the shadows? Always looking over their shoulders. Always that sense of shame.

He thinks of the pink and yellow lilies that bloom in the giardino back in B. The delicate petals that unfurl for such a brief period of time. There’s something recherché, he knows, in such transitory beauty, yet Elio’s never lacked for stubbornness. Oliver may believe his story is already written - that their destiny is forged in stone - but no one’s ever survived a freefall by continuing to spiral.

For something so tragically temporary, their bond has left a permanent mark. And Elio? He wants to beat his fists against this odious ending until they’re bloodied and raw.

#cmbyn #fanfic #elio x oliver #angst #last night in rome

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tigerkid14 · 6 years

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Aureate August Definitions

Here, have a rapidly cobbled together, badly formatted and definitely incomplete list of definitions for the words being used for Aureate August 2018 which starts in just a couple of hours in my time zone. If you, like me, struggle with remembering words you just looked up, here’s the cheat sheet. (Some of these words may have other definitions out there, so please don’t treat this as the end all and be all.)

Adagio - slow tempo

Akimbo - with hands on hips and elbows bent

Anaxiphilia - attracted to unsuitable mates

Anodyne - inoffensive; a painkiller

Apocalyptic - resembling the end of the world

Ballast - heavy material placed low in a vessel to provide stability

Blandish - coax with kind words or flattery

Cacophonous - involving or producing a harsh, discordant mixture of sounds

Chrysalism - n. the amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm, listening to waves of rain pattering against the roof like an argument upstairs, whose muffled words are unintelligible but whose crackling release of built-up tension you understand perfectly.

Collision - n. an encounter between particles (such as atoms or molecules) resulting in exchange or transformation of energy

-an instance of one moving object or person striking violently against another.

Collywobbles - stomach pain or queasiness

Dalliance - a casual romantic or sexual relationship. -brief or casual involvement with something.

Discombobulated - to confuse or disconcert; upset; frustrate

Dissonant - lacking harmony; disagreeing or harsh in sound; discordant

Dwale - v., to wander about deliriously or as if asleep

n., something, usually a drink, that induces sleep

Dysania - the state of finding it hard to get out of bed in the morning.

Dysphoria - a state of unease or generalized dissatisfaction with life; a state of feeling very unhappy, uneasy, or dissatisfied

Effervescent - (of a liquid) giving off bubbles; fizzy; vivacious and enthusiastic.

Ephemeral - lasting for a very short time.

Epitaph - a phrase or statement written in memory of a person who has died, especially as an inscription on a tombstone

Epilogue - 1: a concluding section that rounds out the design of a literary work 2a : a speech often in verse addressed to the audience by an actor at the end of a play; also :the actor speaking such an epilogue b : the final scene of a play that comments on or summarizes the main action 3: the concluding section of a musical composition : coda

Frisson - a sudden strong feeling of excitement or fear; a thrill

Fulgent - shining brightly

Grief - deep sorrow, especially that caused by someone's death; trouble or annoyance

Heartworm - n. a relationship or friendship that you can’t get out of your head, which you thought had faded long ago but is still somehow alive and unfinished, like an abandoned campsite whose smoldering embers still have the power to start a forest fire.

Hiraeth - a longing for a home you can't return to, or one that was never yours. not necessarily a house, but a homely feeling such as love.

Ineffable - too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words

Interlude - 1: a usually short simple play or dramatic entertainment 2: an intervening or interruptive period, space, or event : interval 3: a musical composition inserted between the parts of a longer composition, a drama, or a religious service

Jubilant - feeling or expressing great happiness and triumph

Kerfuffle - a commotion or fuss, especially one caused by conflicting views

Kismet - destiny; fate

Lacuna - an unfilled space or interval; a gap; a missing portion in a book or manuscript; a cavity or depression, especially in bone

Languid - (of a person, manner, or gesture) displaying or having a disinclination for physical exertion or effort; slow and relaxed; weak or faint from illness or fatigue

Licentious - promiscuous and unprincipled in sexual matters; (archaic) disregarding accepted rules or conventions, especially in grammar or literary style

Liminal - relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process; occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold.

Metaphor - a figure of speech in which a word or phrase is applied to an object or action to which it is not literally applicable; a thing regarded as representative or symbolic of something else, especially something abstract

Minutiae - the small, precise, or trivial details of something

Monachopsis - n. the subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place, as maladapted to your surroundings as a seal on a beach—lumbering, clumsy, easily distracted, huddled in the company of other misfits, unable to recognize the ambient roar of your intended habitat, in which you'd be fluidly, brilliantly, effortlessly at home.

Monsters - a : an animal or plant of abnormal form or structure

b : one who deviates from normal or acceptable behavior or character

2: a threatening force

3a : an animal of strange or terrifying shape

b : one unusually large for its kind

4: something monstrous; especially : a person of unnatural or extreme ugliness, deformity, wickedness, or cruelty

5: one that is highly successful

Nyctophilia - n., love of darkness or night; finding relaxation or comfort in the darkness

Osculate - to kiss (basorexia, n. the overwhelming desire to kiss)

Postcards - a card for sending a message by mail without an envelope, typically having a photograph or other illustration on one side

Querencia - n., a place from which one's strength is drawn, where one feels at home; the place where you are your most authentic self

Quixotic - to be excessively romantic or chivalrous; illogical, idealistic, overall dreamy. It is viewed as an over-idealism filled with absurdity

Quell - put an end to (a rebellion or other disorder), typically by the use of force; subdue or silence someone; suppress (a feeling, especially an unpleasant one)

Refractory - adj. stubborn or unmanageable; resistant to a process or stimulus; n. a substance that is resistant to heat

Semaphore - an apparatus for conveying information by means of visual signals, as a light whose position may be changed

Shenanigans - secret or dishonest activity or maneuvering; silly or high-spirited behavior; mischief

Tantalize - torment or tease (someone) with the sight or promise of something that is unobtainable; excite the senses or desires of (someone)

Tempest - a violent windstorm, especially one with rain, hail, or snow; a violent commotion, disturbance, or tumult.

Thrum - v. make a continuous rhythmic humming sound; n. a continuous rhythmic humming sound

Unabridged - (of a text) not cut or shortened; complete

Vexatious - causing or tending to cause annoyance, frustration, or worry; (legal) denoting an action or the bringer of an action that is brought without sufficient grounds for winning, purely to cause annoyance to the defendant

Witchery - the practice of magic; compelling power exercised by beauty, eloquence, or other attractive or fascinating qualities

Xenial - Hospitable, especially to visiting strangers or foreigners. Of the relation between a host and guest; friendly

Yearning - a feeling of intense longing for something

Zeal - great energy or enthusiasm in pursuit of a cause or an objective

Zephyr - a soft gentle breeze

#AureateAugust2018 #writing #writing prompts

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