IRC-Galleria

" There was an elf locked in the toilet, a future king scribbling musings on BillyÂ’s good cloth napkins, and the only hope for Middle Earth was perched on the kitchen counter, bumped up against the large and growing collection of empty bottles and picking at the glue between his toes with an unlit clove getting soggy between his lips.

......


Viggo slid through the backdoor again after a moment sans tablecloth and resumed his napkin scrawling.

Dom pulled out the chair next to him and sat, hooking his toes over the rungs of Viggo’s seat. “Billy liked those napkins, you know. Picked ‘em out all himself. Said they felt nice on his chin and didn’t stain too easy.”

“Like silver silk,” said Viggo.

Dom watched him write a phrase along one of the seamed edges. “Cotton, really. Billy may kill you. What are you writing?”

“The epic of Orlando: He Who Was Tragically Locked in a Bathroom.”

Dom stared for a minute, then smiled and the corners of his eyes crinkled. “That’s brilliant. Am I in it?”

“Yes. You say a great many profound things, dear Dominic.”

“Yeah?”

“No. It’s hard to write jokes in iambic pentameter.” Viggo grinned, showing his teeth and the dip in his chin, then added, “Have we more wine? Poetry is work for wine and should you find me wine, I may find the words to paint you a hero.” "
__

<3