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writetomyheart2015-10-07 01:36 am
bluedreaming) wrote in writetomyheart2015-10-07 01:36 am
Entry tags:
[team sonic] letters burning
First word from raise a glass.
Title from London Grammar's Hey Now. Hamlet is Hamlet.
"To be, or not to be- that is the question," Sungjoo drones on, Wenhan sitting on the bleachers as his boyfriend regales the blue of the pool with his soliloqy.
"It was a lot cooler when Ethan Hawke did his thing roaming the hallways of Blockbuster," he points out, yawning, stretching one arm higher than the either as his spine unfolds, tiny cracking sounds filling the air.
"That was pedestrian," Sungjoo frowns. "Explosions are so. . ."
"Seungyoun?" Wenhan suggests, just give Sungjoo an extra ribbing. He's still mad that Seungyoun got to have the part of Ophelia, which is hilarious, because Seungyoun wanted to be Hamlet.
"Don't talk to me about Seungyoun," Sungjoo scowls, frustration warring with feigned indifference on his face. Wenhan just shrugs, standing and walking over to the edge of the pool, the blue tile cool under his feet.
"Did you need help?" he asks. "I can read Ophelia, after you get through your monotonous ramblings." He winks, a grin to take the edge of a critique—Hamlet is no Midsummer Night's Eve or Macbeth.
He bents his knees and dives into the water, slipping beneath the surface. Sungjoo's face is interesting from a fish-eye's perfective, the way his mouth waves sideways, the colour blurring and mixing together. His words are muffled by the water, and when Wenhan finally emerges—impeccable timing as always—he's just in time to catch the trailing end.
". . .Be all my sins rememb'red." Sungjoo looks up at the sky through the glass of the skylights, his eyes tracing the clouds spinning past, too quickly for summer and yet not quickly enough.
"Good my lord," Wenhan replies. "How does your honour for this many a day?" The words, as usual, are strange on his tongue, but somehow he doesn't have the same trouble remembering them as he does with things he's supposed to be memorizing. Maybe it's Sungjoo's face, the way he really cares about all of this, even when he's huffing and bluffing and muttering out,
"I humbly thank you; well, well, well," before he jumps into the pool, water spraying everywhere and Wenhan blinks it out of his eyes, missing his line.
"I think I'll be Ophelia for the rest of today," Sungjoo says once he breaks the surface, floating on his back, eyes to the sky. Wenhan doens't say anything, just lets his feet float up through the water until he's lying on his back too, and their hands meet, holding them together as they float.
Title from London Grammar's Hey Now. Hamlet is Hamlet.
"To be, or not to be- that is the question," Sungjoo drones on, Wenhan sitting on the bleachers as his boyfriend regales the blue of the pool with his soliloqy.
"It was a lot cooler when Ethan Hawke did his thing roaming the hallways of Blockbuster," he points out, yawning, stretching one arm higher than the either as his spine unfolds, tiny cracking sounds filling the air.
"That was pedestrian," Sungjoo frowns. "Explosions are so. . ."
"Seungyoun?" Wenhan suggests, just give Sungjoo an extra ribbing. He's still mad that Seungyoun got to have the part of Ophelia, which is hilarious, because Seungyoun wanted to be Hamlet.
"Don't talk to me about Seungyoun," Sungjoo scowls, frustration warring with feigned indifference on his face. Wenhan just shrugs, standing and walking over to the edge of the pool, the blue tile cool under his feet.
"Did you need help?" he asks. "I can read Ophelia, after you get through your monotonous ramblings." He winks, a grin to take the edge of a critique—Hamlet is no Midsummer Night's Eve or Macbeth.
He bents his knees and dives into the water, slipping beneath the surface. Sungjoo's face is interesting from a fish-eye's perfective, the way his mouth waves sideways, the colour blurring and mixing together. His words are muffled by the water, and when Wenhan finally emerges—impeccable timing as always—he's just in time to catch the trailing end.
". . .Be all my sins rememb'red." Sungjoo looks up at the sky through the glass of the skylights, his eyes tracing the clouds spinning past, too quickly for summer and yet not quickly enough.
"Good my lord," Wenhan replies. "How does your honour for this many a day?" The words, as usual, are strange on his tongue, but somehow he doesn't have the same trouble remembering them as he does with things he's supposed to be memorizing. Maybe it's Sungjoo's face, the way he really cares about all of this, even when he's huffing and bluffing and muttering out,
"I humbly thank you; well, well, well," before he jumps into the pool, water spraying everywhere and Wenhan blinks it out of his eyes, missing his line.
"I think I'll be Ophelia for the rest of today," Sungjoo says once he breaks the surface, floating on his back, eyes to the sky. Wenhan doens't say anything, just lets his feet float up through the water until he's lying on his back too, and their hands meet, holding them together as they float.