Greg’s nervous. Climbing the stairs to the artist’s studio, his stomach squirms. It’s been a long time – decades – since he last did this. He just hopes the guy isn’t disappointed with the model he’s hired. (He’d’ve done it without pay, honestly, it’s just a need to do something different – something he’d done when he was young, before…before the world got so hard – only the guy had insisted.)
The door stands ajar, and Greg pushes it further open. He clears his throat, about to ask if there’s anyone there; and then he sees him, silhouetted against the rain-rivuleted window.
@green-violin-bow posted a new chapter of this story this week and ohhhh, it’s so perfect. They are so adorable and soft together, I’m slowly melting away with each moment they spend together!
i love when someone hears about an unfamiliar issue, like hiv stigma or housing justice, and assumes it must be some kind of trendy new made-up tumblr sj thing, when actually it’s very much a non-new, non-trendy, non-tumblr thing that they themselves are too online to know about
Green Violin Bow 