sorry to still be batshit about it but like. palm being so bemused at nuengdiaoβs boldnessβ¦. i mean for a boy barely aged eighteen and that had his first kiss a month ago, nueng is really intense at times (kisses your bare shoulder blade, guides your fingers to his throat so that his life is genuinely in your hands, holds and bathes youβbare behind to bare frontβamid a fit of your grief). he is far from good at subtly and those gestures of his demonstrate that to a staggering degree. a mere, brief or begrudging brush of skin doesnβt do it for nueng; he gives to the degree that he gets. and those are manifestations of his desires as greatly as they are of his desire for palmβs to be met. like. he desires palm, sure, but his greater desire is for palmβs autonomous desires to be fulfilled. both bodily and regarding his life absent of the role heβs simultaneously been made to fulfill.
thereβs a good bit of attention brought to palmβs stare, and boy does he stare, as heβs the one thats lifeβs mission is to look at nueng. but like. nuengβs is as damaging, his eyes so sensual so dark so singley on the other, assessing for infinitesimal shifts in palm's more serious demeanor, if he likes this or if thinks that feels good. but the most palm does is blush or giggle, all abashedβsay, if softly, that itβs embarrassing or that there are others there. and thatβs if he doesnβt go blank and shake off the absurdity of it all. absolutely bemused at nuengdiaoβs boldness that he seemingly doesnβt benefit or gain from besides palmβs flustered grin or inaudible mumble. somebody using their body for his sake, to reassure or offer relief, to fulfill his desires, to shoulder and share his burdens? thatβs beyond his imagining, forget that thatβs all he does for nueng, that heβs made it his duty to resume doing till his final, devoted breath.
