week four | dates

[marriagebroker]

Get dressed up, go on the town, this is your last week for romance!

Comments

[beatmatching]

[ an apology is what he wants, but not one like that. luka pauses, turning first to look at his reflection in the mirror. (i forgot a fit for this thread but please know his entire back is out because it's luka, so enjoy that yi sang). the reflection he sees is the same as always, at least on the surface.

he turns after a moment to regard his apparent partner, proper. ]

Tell me—why should I pick you? Without mentioning the others, the wish, or this game.

[ a selfish ask, but this is who he is. ]

[poans]

[(Oh, my.)

There are too many constraints within the game when he dislikes the idea of choosing between fellows. He was never here for the wish, and the others aren't relevant to the subject at hand. Thus, the freedom Luka grants him is, regardless of the outcome, a boon.]

. . . The night you bared yourself to me, I glimpsed something familiar yet different.

[For Luka is his own, as are his pain and his isolation. Yi Sang can recognize the void, but that experience is uniquely the former's.]

You were cultivated in a garden, grown under an artificial light that determined your reflection. But that is not the you whom you match in the mirror. This time . . . I want to see you again, on your terms, without averting my gaze.

[beatmatching]

And how will you see me? You said on my terms, but I don't have the want to perform for you. And I've said what I wanted to say—I know what I am and I know what I'm capable of. I won't plead for your understanding or anything else.

[ that much is more a function of who he is, one of the reasons why he declined to follow and conference with odile. it's beneath him.

luka is a lonely, isolated soul, but he is prideful. he's never doubted himself in his entire life and he might not even be capable of it. he'll persist regardless, in spite of himself and in spite of his feelings which he's grown more familiar with in his weeks here. ]

[poans]

You do not have to perform, nor to plead.

[For a performer, to perform is to express oneself at the height of something. Be it the whims of others or his own heart, it's an expression of passion. Yi Sang doesn't need that or believe himself entitled to one. Throwing him against a tree wasn't a performance; it was the raw, naked truth.]

Simply . . . I would like to see who you are, no matter the angle that is shown.

[Luka doesn't even have to look at him. Like a skewed reflection, he'll watch.]

[beatmatching]

[ ....... ]

Is that how you want me to call upon you this weekend?

[poans]

Indeed, for that is what I have chosen in traversing this maze of mirrors with you—the color of you, undiluted by another's pigment . . . myself included.