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He was stunning, his lines invisible, the shadows pulling his sharpest features out and into the light. The languid way he moved, the subtle way his eyes traced my sharp lines made me shiver. His dark eyes pulled up and met my blank stare as if he could see the life in me. See what lay beyond the carbon copy, into the original-me.
I wished so deeply for him to talk to me, to hear the deep rumble of his voice glide through me. But he never spoke when he came to visit, just stared. Despite knowing the way he would praise the other works that hung around me. I could always hear the whisper of it, carrying across the vast room where I resided. How he would oh and ah over every piece, except for me.
Jealousy would burn right through me with every compliment he voiced that was not directed at me, and yet he held back every time those eyes fell upon me. As though his voice had been stolen and whisked away. I hated it, and yet I loved it all the same. Unsure of if his silence meant genuine admiration at the cost of his vocabulary, or a staunch refusal to give me what I so craved.
I knew he had no idea that I was sentient, that I could hear the scoffs of those who found my bright colors, and odd angles to be a stain on the entire art community. And yet, it felt as though he knew I could see him and admire the craftsmanship of his bone structure. So he withheld any comment, scared I may overhear it. Frightened, I may read more into and pine for more from him; yearn for his touch, knowing that it was forbidden.
The second his fingers would graze my skin an alarm would go off or a guard would come charging and take him away. Make it so we could never be together, and I could never admire him the way he seems to admire me.
I hoped it was admiration. I hoped I was his favorite.
And I would continue to hope until his hair was sprinkled with gray, his features sharp with age, and his wise eyes could hardly see me without assistance. Because as he turned and walked away, I knew he’d be back again just like before…
@Reo Here is your short story based on Favorite Boys music video for A.C.E-got inspired by the title and the artistic imagery used in the music video.
I wished so deeply for him to talk to me, to hear the deep rumble of his voice glide through me. But he never spoke when he came to visit, just stared. Despite knowing the way he would praise the other works that hung around me. I could always hear the whisper of it, carrying across the vast room where I resided. How he would oh and ah over every piece, except for me.
Jealousy would burn right through me with every compliment he voiced that was not directed at me, and yet he held back every time those eyes fell upon me. As though his voice had been stolen and whisked away. I hated it, and yet I loved it all the same. Unsure of if his silence meant genuine admiration at the cost of his vocabulary, or a staunch refusal to give me what I so craved.
I knew he had no idea that I was sentient, that I could hear the scoffs of those who found my bright colors, and odd angles to be a stain on the entire art community. And yet, it felt as though he knew I could see him and admire the craftsmanship of his bone structure. So he withheld any comment, scared I may overhear it. Frightened, I may read more into and pine for more from him; yearn for his touch, knowing that it was forbidden.
The second his fingers would graze my skin an alarm would go off or a guard would come charging and take him away. Make it so we could never be together, and I could never admire him the way he seems to admire me.
I hoped it was admiration. I hoped I was his favorite.
And I would continue to hope until his hair was sprinkled with gray, his features sharp with age, and his wise eyes could hardly see me without assistance. Because as he turned and walked away, I knew he’d be back again just like before…
@Reo Here is your short story based on Favorite Boys music video for A.C.E-got inspired by the title and the artistic imagery used in the music video.
![Donation [Reo]](https://kpopsource.com/data/medal/1047_1579625666m.jpg)
