"A podcast," Louis says, rolling the word off his tongue, testing the idea of it. Envisioning Daniel with a microphone, a platform from which he can say anything he likes. "So long as you don't stop writing, I'll come on whenever you want."
Selfish, maybe. He'd miss Daniel's prose.
But it'd be a loss, Louis thinks, if Daniel gave it up entirely.
Louis laces their fingers together more securely. Savors the promise that Daniel will be there, be close, witness everything the coming years will bring. They can wander together even after the tour ends, spend the time, no need for long decades apart. The future unfurling ahead of them, whatever they make of it.
Dreamy thoughts. Louis is fighting a war. Louis is trying to sort through the wreckage of his own mind, fit himself into his own body again.
no subject
Selfish, maybe. He'd miss Daniel's prose.
But it'd be a loss, Louis thinks, if Daniel gave it up entirely.
Louis laces their fingers together more securely. Savors the promise that Daniel will be there, be close, witness everything the coming years will bring. They can wander together even after the tour ends, spend the time, no need for long decades apart. The future unfurling ahead of them, whatever they make of it.
Dreamy thoughts. Louis is fighting a war. Louis is trying to sort through the wreckage of his own mind, fit himself into his own body again.
"Dedicate something to me. Your next one."