#with thomas

“Why can’t you believe me?” he asked over his shoulder, trying to keep his voice at a normal decibel. James stepped inside behind him, slamming the door shut.

“Because you told me how you felt,” replied James in earnest. “How you feel.”

Thomas closed his eyes and sighed. How had they gotten here?

“It was how I felt,” he said, turning around. James still stood in front of the door, arms open and face flushed.

“But it isn’t something that I meant to be acted upon,” Thomas added quickly. He was actually gesturing at James, hands flailing up and down. He had only ever gotten upset enough to do that around his father.

“But Thomas,” James pleaded, “You must know that in this case no amount of treatises or good intentions will change that place or the countless places like it.”

Thomas gritted his teeth together. “Do not presume to tell me what I must and must not know. I am not some crew member you can manipulate.”

James looked taken aback and the words burned down Thomas’s throat. But then the anger returned to his lover’s face.

“I do not mean to manipulate,” said James. “But that man and that place deserve to be burnt to the ground! And if I could I would do the same to that fucking asylum in London!”

Also me: (steamy song plays while sketching)