lunes, 17 de octubre de 2022

17- Mirror:



Flug looked at his reflection every morning. He hated it. He hated his reflection. He hated his face.

The red hair tried, vainly, to cover the scars. One long scar divided his face in a diagonal, here and there he had cuts and burns.

His eyes were peculiar, the sclera was completely black, the iris and pupil fused in a shining white. 

He was going to cover himself with that bag, like every day, so he didn't have to look at himself, but his boss stopped him, his cold hands holding him firmly. 

“Let me admire you a little longer, Doctor~”.

“I don't understand what you see in me” Flug lowered his eyes, embarrassed. 

“Your hair is like fire, your eyes are like stars in the emptiness of the cosmos, your scars tell a story” he said, his tone soft and courtly “I could look at you for hours”.

Flug looked at him and couldn’t contain his laughter, happy and with his cheeks as red as his hair.

“Ay, and you say you are not romantic” he trapped his husband in a possesive hug and kissed him avidly. 

Black Hat corresponded with an eager moan. 

“It's worth it to be so sometimes” he smiled. 


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