Ms. Communication
@bettertogetherrps
Whatever Troy had been doing with his life until now, it was clear he wasn’t really living. Here, in Paris, where the wine was endless, and the cares were few, Troy could do nothing but give into it all. Of course, it wasn’t just the time difference and miscommunication with the locals that had him feeling anew, but the freedom to be himself in a place where nobody knew who he was.
Until he had met Elliot, Troy had been hidden beneath his fear, riddled with worries about what it meant to be masculine and what would make his heart happy. And no one understood happiness quite like Elliot. He did whatever he wanted to do to make himself satisfied. He was unashamed to be himself and flaunted his happiness about as if he were the poster child for a happy and true life. And, to Troy, he was. Elliot was a ray of sunshine, and with him, Troy felt clarity.
Never more so than now.
There he lie, halfway around the world, yet so far gone into space...
By suggestion of Elliot, Troy lie over a bed, half nude, and high on ecstasy, and loving every moment of it. At the moment, he wasn’t sure who or what part of their body he was using as a pillow, but he couldn’t help but wonder people of the world did before the invention of pillows. “Time is.. strange.” He’d muse to no one in particular. “There’s so much of it, but, like, none of it.” Troy wasn’t so much following his own words as he was focusing on rubbing his cheek over his “pillow”. Soft skin, beautiful. It felt.. beautiful.
