Amadeus's Literatures
It was easy for Valentine to reason why he stayed during those starlit nights. Easy when the only sights that crowded his vision were ivory skin and locks that draped across his pillows like streaming light. Easy when a lover's name ghosted over his rough lips, a name he knew come morning would mean little than a past excursion. Easy when he saw the markings left on the man's porcelain neck, knowing even as they split paths the following day would still linger there as a temporary reminder.
(THANK YOU SO MUCH Allons IM BIG HEART EYES)