Type
"I've almost given up trying to figure out your type," he says conversationally.
Part of me is perversely pleased--being enigmatic has been a favored pass-time of mine for most of my life. But part of me is a little...(what's the word? Frustrated? No...too much... Exasperated? Still too strong. ...Weary. Weary is almost right....) meh, too. Because from where I sit, it's easy to pick out of a crowd the folk to whom I'll feel attracted. Provided that crowd is interacting with eachother, not just walking past, oblivious.
The shoe-in-the-works is that Tesoro Mio is looking at the "problem" with male eyes...not just male eyes, but aquisitive male eyes. The sort of viewing you bring with you into a bar when the purpose of the exercise is to not go home alone. You follow? He's looking for a string of physical features that recurr often enough to classify. "Luca likes x." I can't throw rocks--it's how the man's wired, and he's sweet to try and learn... but he's using the wrong set of assumptions-of-true to try and "solve" with, and I don't know how to hand him mine so they'll grok.
Because attraction is rarely ever centred on a look, for me. It's more...a matter of carriage. A matter of how someone exhibits his/her nature. How they stand, how they move. How they gesture, how their faces express. What thoughts come out of their mouths. What art they embed in their flesh and how willing they are to talk about it.
I once saw a gorgeous piece of colourwork across a stranger's shoulders, complemented her on it, and somewhere in the middle of the ensuing conversation, got blindsided by the grace and lusciousness of the curve of her leg from hip to ankle. Typify that, ah?
It's not a matter of compartmentalising what makes beauty and only seeking that.
It's a matter of finding the individual's beauty.
Finding out whether they'll have enough faith in me, having just met me, to show their own beauty to me.
"Good," I answer pleasantly. "Maybe you'll let me lead this particular expedition, then?"
Because, honestly?
With one notable exception, involving other people in our play and our sanctuary is...not highly prioritised on the list of things to do this year. For the gods' own sake--we're still learning the dynamic between us. How in the world do you throw a stranger into that mix before it gels?
We're not ready.
"I probably should, shouldn't I?"
"It would work better that way, yes."
Part of me is perversely pleased--being enigmatic has been a favored pass-time of mine for most of my life. But part of me is a little...(what's the word? Frustrated? No...too much... Exasperated? Still too strong. ...Weary. Weary is almost right....) meh, too. Because from where I sit, it's easy to pick out of a crowd the folk to whom I'll feel attracted. Provided that crowd is interacting with eachother, not just walking past, oblivious.
The shoe-in-the-works is that Tesoro Mio is looking at the "problem" with male eyes...not just male eyes, but aquisitive male eyes. The sort of viewing you bring with you into a bar when the purpose of the exercise is to not go home alone. You follow? He's looking for a string of physical features that recurr often enough to classify. "Luca likes x." I can't throw rocks--it's how the man's wired, and he's sweet to try and learn... but he's using the wrong set of assumptions-of-true to try and "solve" with, and I don't know how to hand him mine so they'll grok.
Because attraction is rarely ever centred on a look, for me. It's more...a matter of carriage. A matter of how someone exhibits his/her nature. How they stand, how they move. How they gesture, how their faces express. What thoughts come out of their mouths. What art they embed in their flesh and how willing they are to talk about it.
I once saw a gorgeous piece of colourwork across a stranger's shoulders, complemented her on it, and somewhere in the middle of the ensuing conversation, got blindsided by the grace and lusciousness of the curve of her leg from hip to ankle. Typify that, ah?
It's not a matter of compartmentalising what makes beauty and only seeking that.
It's a matter of finding the individual's beauty.
Finding out whether they'll have enough faith in me, having just met me, to show their own beauty to me.
"Good," I answer pleasantly. "Maybe you'll let me lead this particular expedition, then?"
Because, honestly?
With one notable exception, involving other people in our play and our sanctuary is...not highly prioritised on the list of things to do this year. For the gods' own sake--we're still learning the dynamic between us. How in the world do you throw a stranger into that mix before it gels?
We're not ready.
"I probably should, shouldn't I?"
"It would work better that way, yes."
posted by ~*Luca at 1:26 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home