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Author Topic: so much stardust | closed  (Read 178 times)

* Lyn Renn

    (08/16/2023 at 03:17)
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a few hours after this
7th of august, 1966
kitri's flat

"Open the damn door, Kitri!"

The slur in his words, even those simple five, wasn't lost on him. This was probably a bad idea. It'd occurred to him on the walk over, even more, when he'd realized he'd be too drunk to pull off an apparition, and a degree higher when he'd missed a step and fallen elbow first climbing the small uprise to her door.

His hand felt numb. He wasn't exactly sure how many times he'd banged on her door, or how many times he'd pleaded for her to open it. Lyn just knew he needed to fix things. She wasn't someone he was ultimately willing to let walk out of his life. That was what he'd decided to go with back during dinner, although a far more sober decision than the one he was currently making when he'd chosen his pride over her.

"What do I have to say? I said I'm sorry already. I'm not, just, open the goddamn door!"

The number of different inflections, tones, and degrees of volume in a single stream of words told the entire story. The act of this itself, for him at least, felt like more than he had ever done for another person before. It should be enough.

He'd let all the rest go. All of his other relationships. All of his other connections. And he'd accepted it with the same level of dismissiveness. A memory he could look back on and enjoy the bits he liked without giving the reason there wasn't any deeper acknowledgment.

"Shit, I–"

He threw up on her front door.

It was the last time he'd see it, he figured, when he gave it a hard kick that left his toes bruised and walked off.

What Llywelyn Ridley Renn would fail to realize, what he would need to if he'd ever mature out of the shallow cocoon of irredeemable hubris that he wallowed in, was that his perceptions of enough were never going to be enough. Not for those that deserved far better than him.
« Last Edit: 08/16/2023 at 03:20 by Lyn Renn »
i hate the way you say my name
Like It's Something Secret

* Lyn Renn

    (09/10/2023 at 06:49)
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14th of february, 1967
vesper's bedroom

"You're getting what?"

He heard her correctly. Rising from his rested position, bare chest against her soft mattress, Lyn gave her the most incredulous look he'd likely ever given someone. Mainly because he'd seldom offer anyone the ability to warp his presentation, even in the faint quiet that existed in the dark room they shared.

She repeated it as if the repercussions of what she was admitting to him weren't contradicted by what they had gotten into that evening and what had him lying there beside her in the first place.

"Not tomorrow, or anytime soon, but it's going to be arranged for me."

Lyn stared unblinking in the direction of her voice. The moon was dead that evening, leaving only the light stars and the faraway streetlight to be the only thing that lit her form for him to see. Still, he was quite sure she could feel the look he was leveling at her.

"What? Did you think we'd keep doing this forever? We're not teenagers anymore, Llywelyn."

He hated it when she used the entirety of his name. She knew that and used it anyway.

Processing everything in his mind had left him tumultuous. No, he did not expect them to keep doing this forever. And honestly, it took a lot of coaxing and manipulation on his part to even get here. Vesper had always been a constant. Whenever he felt that pinching need for companionship, that itch that he'd need someone else to scratch, he could depend on her to welcome him into her world and let him out the moment he could pick himself up from whatever depths his spirit had sunk into.

Lyn wasn't about to wait for the morning. He turned, shifting his hips into flipping his body away from her and rising off the bed in the same motion before he went about gathering his things.

She laughed.

All of it went unsaid. How often they looked into each other's eyes and realized the kinship that existed there. Mirrored spirits, too conceited to speak it aloud. The many times he'd stumble upon her door because he knew he could and how little they would speak on their lives, what was happening as if it hardly mattered in those moments when there were more pressing matters to get through. As if taking the time to brush past the shallowness of their engagements might ruin it, or at least take up time that could be put to better use.

For a second, he paused to think on whether he should toss his name as a suitor.

For a second, Lyn wondered if she was making the whole thing up. She was testing him, trying to find what they actually meant to each other when, in the last few months, he'd made his way to see her more often than he had in all the years that'd passed since they'd graduated.

For a second, Llywelyn Ridley Renn thought about what it would take for him to ever be happy and if this was where destiny had always been leading him. To this one chance, this one moment, to finally admit that he didn't have it all figured out.

He left without a word, leaving the key he'd forged when she'd gotten the place on a nearby table without shedding a second glance in her direction.
« Last Edit: 03/02/2024 at 01:58 by Lyn Renn »
i hate the way you say my name
Like It's Something Secret

* Lyn Renn

    (01/16/2024 at 06:28)
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scribbled in the back of a notebook
circa may 1962; his first

love's twisted tale
unfair it seems
two hearts entrenched
in toxic dreams

opposites collide
her fiery hair
as fairness eludes
hearts left to despair

a magnetism so strong
attraction profound
where toxicity thrives
emotions unbound

the chaos of lust
its bittersweet taste
unfairness prevails
leaving no space

fates entwined
a paradoxical pair
opposites attracting
beyond repair

unraveling threads
of love's bitter snare
in this toxicity
the unfairness wears

would lessons learned
cease the bitter gale
this unjust web
an inevitable tale

for in the wreckage
from where they rise
a chance to break free
when love dies
i hate the way you say my name
Like It's Something Secret

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