#morithaniel

This is a bit odd, but I've been tempted to do it for a long time. I tried my hand at using Thaniel and Mori's names as palettes, based on my synesthesia.

'Did I keep you awake?' he said, embarassed. (...) 'What? No' Mori leaned down over him and kissed his throat and the awkwardness dropped away.

A cold hand pushed itself through his hair. “Are you asleep?”

He jolted upright, “You’re awake! My God, the surgeon more or less told me you’d die from the anesthetic -” Mori smiled a little,

“Don’t exaggerate.”

“I’m not!” 

“I’m not allergic to chloroform. I’m not allergic to anything but yellow licorice allsorts and those haven’t been invented yet.”

“The flower’s colour, has faded away, while in idle thoughts my life passes vainly by, and I watch the long rains fall” “not a very great example of manly frankness, is it,” she said. Matsumoto laughed. “And if I tell you that our word for colour is the same as our word for love?” Grace read the poem again. “Still trite” she said.”

(…)

“Embarrassingly, theirs was hanging in the parlour beside a sketch Thaniel had made of the Kyrie from Mozart’s Requiem. Mori had rescued it from a wastepaper basket and then hovered with a packet of watercolours and a hopeful expression until Thaniel had painted the other movements too. (…) He was coming to the very gradual conclusion that Mori hadn’t only been being polite, but really wanted it. Why was still a foggy point.” 

“Mori looked back as Thaniel leaned forward to kiss his cheek. He touched their heads together, just cradling the base of Thaniel’s skull for a careful moment, before he kissed him back. Thaniel felt a flood of white-hot relief”