SeductiveInkWell

When Nathaniel stirred in the night, opening his eyes onto the pitch black darkness of his bedroom he was not at all sure what had roused him. His body was curled into its most natural, most comfortable position and his pillow felt perfectly soft and plump under his head. He felt so warm and comfortable that he was inclined to close his eyes and go back to sleep but he recalled, as he fluttered his eyelids, a high-pitched yowling noise. He had been dreaming that he was wondering around a strange exhibition and he had found there, amongst ancient artifacts and pretty paintings, a number of mournful animals in cages. While he stared through t

twentyGenre: josei, m/m, drama, psychological, mature, contemporary, romance, road trip - - - Another week goes by and he hasn’t seen Donnie at any of the usual spots. Charlie can’t even bring himself to go to the café. Work piles up on his desk and he cannot afford pointless distractions from his job. He thought Donnie would be perfect since he always seems to hide behind an immutable mask of nonchalance and general disinterest in anything that wasn’t trivial. Donnie has made his choice too -- he walked away after seeing who he really was. Charlie shuffles the papers before him with more force than necessary and thum

Llewellyn stood, in the courtyard, staring out across the dusty road with expectant eyes. His friend stood at his side, standing at a distance that respected the difference in their genders and station. She was coiling a spare stretch of gauze about her hand, greasy with cleaning oils. She watched the prince with sad eyes, knowing the turmoil that lay beneath her master and friend's blue eyes. 'Do you think they secured a fair treaty,' Llewellyn murmured again, for the twelfth time that morning, 'they are known for being brutal, but they also have strict customs when it comes to surrenders…' He picked at his own fingers and bit his li

Travis had never gotten over the fact that such a nice little creek ran through this rundown park in the middle of a low-class neighborhood. He never realized how much time he would spend here admiring the browning grass and rusted swing set, either. Or how he would eventually come here so often, retracing his steps as if it was a path he'd been walking every day of his life, and making it a part of his daily routine to visit a dark, square-cut stone with a beautiful name, a span of years, and a heartfelt quote from said person engraved into it. He walks his typical route, enjoying the sun on his face and the thin breeze just going through h