giddy seizures - falsettos oneshots

rise & fall + siren!whizzvin

The crisp, ocean air was incomparable to anything Marvin has ever experienced before - so purely indescribable. It filled the man with such an overwhelming feeling of serene tranquility that the rest of the world - the alarming, anxious, awful part of the world - had faded away. There was nothing but him and the invisible, soft fingers of the wind's nymphs cascading through his uncouth hair.

He closed his eyes and allowed himself to release his thoughts to the sea - to give the beach all that he is, and to let himself rise and fall like the tidal waves; the sweet spray and fine foam of the sea perhaps being all that's left of his sanity.

Before he knew it, there, spread luxuriously on top of an old, soft blanket, the grainy gold that framed the ocean blowing gently at his body, he began to write - his glorious, ink pen somehow filled the paper's spaces that were similar to the holes in his heart with every thought he had. Despite being a published author, he felt like an amateur - trying to describe the scenery that he had the pleasure of watching unfold right before his eyes seemed impossible with his inferior language. He got frustrated, he felt like a moron who's never held a pen before - the ocean was a goddess his literary skills could never challenge.

Then, in his fit of frustration where he proceeded to throw his notebook and pen to the fabric beneath him, something captured his gaze. As a writer, he'd always been fascinatedly curious about all that is humanity - every person has a unique story that Marvin is constantly itching to unravel with his pen. However, this scenario was a bit different, the brunette noted.

There was a man, perhaps a bit younger, most definitely taller than him, staring at him from the water. The public beach was always crowded, the author grew accustomed to having people glance at him every now and again, but they usually looked away once they realized he was just another washed-up, wandering writer in California, but the boy held his gaze, and Marvin immediately felt a surge of curiosity bloom inside him.

He continued to stare back and swallowed any form of self-consciousness he got from the man staring at him, for it was clearly lacking on the figure that returned every second of his gaze.

Habitually, the author began describing the boy in his head like he would if he were a character in a book - an exercise he did more often then he'd like to admit.

'The man was framed by the sun - as if sent by heaven itself. His tall, muscular, yet also fragile and delicate frame seemed to beat the ocean in the game of winning my attention. Perhaps he's the map in a bottle pirates spend lifetimes searching for.'

Idly, almost offhandedly, Marvin waves at the Ocean Boy. He smiles at the suddenly starry-eyed author.

'Perhaps I finally understand a pirate's urgent, cruel need to conquer until the search is done.'

Out of childish ambition, the brunette stood, making sure to not break the staring contest, and crossed slowly to a nearby dock that overlooked a portion of the sea close to the decidedly beautiful boy.

Marvin sat, cross-legged on the creaky wood, and basked half-heartedly in the sun, until a familiar head popped out of the water and grabbed a leg of the dock, propping himself on top of the wood. With a closer view, he could see that the boy had long, black hair that stuck to the back of his neck, his cheeks, and to his jawline when wet and had gorgeous, autumn eyes that reflected the sun similarly to a whiskey bottle. The author shifted so that he was laying on his stomach, chin resting on his knuckles, gazing at the boy.

"What's someone like you doing at the beach by yourself?" Marvin questioned, a smirk in his voice, failing to convey a single hint of insecurity, for it was gone with the sea and buried in the newly-planted garden that rested in the boy's gaze.