* SI VIS PACEM / PARA BELLUM.

A  CHUCKLE  OF  HIS  OWN  escapes  him  as  the  pillow  bounces  off  ,  but  he  makes  another  mental  note  of  how  incredibly  endearing  it  was  to  know  that  he’d  made  markus  laugh  (  okay ,  giggle  )  at  the  same  god - awful  puns  most  people  cringed  at .  

he  gives  a  lazy  stretch  that’s  reminiscent  of  a  spoiled  housecat .  ❝  —  no .  just  until  you  fall  asleep . ❞  it’s  that  part  of  the  night  where  he’s  cozy  &  warm  &  there’s ,  for  once ,  little  to  NO  filter  over  his  thoughts . it’s  refreshing  in  its  own  way  ;   there’s  something  about  markus  that  brings  out  that  side  of  him . 

❝  if  you  dream  in  color  –  ❞   now  his  voice  has  dropped  to  a  whisper .   ❝  — is  it  a  pigment  of  your  imagination ?  ❞  

——— *・ WHAT AN HONOUR IT WAS to be entrusted with connor's affections & trust. his sleigh bell-esque chirps & kittenish curiousity. & the ideological bliss of his physical essence , his lovely hyacinthean companion, only mere inches away from open arms , rekindles a growing fondness in markus. it was perhaps moreso the odd circumstances that the artist & the underclassman found themselves in that earned an amused snicker out of mark. though puns are just as nice too.

❝ good luck with that — haven't had a good night's rest since highschool. ❞ sleepy eyes scan the spawled out boy, playfully mocking his confidence in wordplay. the weight of his upper body slams onto the mattress & the bed frame practically quakes within his touch. it's absolutely amazing what these cheap & slightly uncomfortable beds can endure given how naturally rowdy young men were.