topino | (no subject)

I will try not to lose myself to ecstasy this time. I think the first time, I blacked out from pleasure and I would like to relive it.

Would you like me to wear the clothes of the time? Pretend we have never met? Shall we brawl again, for old time's sake?

I don't know that I would ever lift a hand to hurt you again. But the farce would be enjoyable.

You as you once were and me doing what I should have done from the beginning.

We could do what modern couples do? Play as strangers in a bar? Maybe we will not fight, but we could pretend to meet again, on the thousandth year anniversary of when we first met.

I only wish my heart had not been filled with hate. I regret how many deaths I brought you, habibi.

Don't let regrets haunt you, my love. We both did things that we regret. But all of those steps, no matter how horrible, brought us together.

I can't regret a single thing that paved the road that will have you soon in my arms.

I can regret some things.

Certain fashion choices. Bad meals. Those few times we stayed in hotels that made my back constantly ache and heal.

Oh, Nicky. Do you remember the 80's? Both 1980's and 1780's. That was the worst fashion I think we have suffered through yet.

I regret growing the back of my hair out the way I did.

I miss brocade doublets. I looked very nice in them and especially with my hair a little longer and the beard. Or maybe I just miss Italy during the Renaissance and you sketching everything so beautifully.

I still have some of those sketches. So many of you. Maybe that is what we can recreate for our anniversary.

Go to Rome and get an old room. Pretend it is the Renaissance again and spend the days drinking and sketching and making love.

Let's turn our phones off and pretend that there is no way to reach us.

I'm going to need at least a week, especially if you want to take walks around Rome in the time in between to revisit which of the Renaissance artists lusted after your talents (and you).

If there was any lusting, it was over you my love. They fawned after you as though you were Apollo on Earth.

I still think that David was carved in your image.

You still painted the very best of me, though. I will never doubt that.

If I am David, then I don't know how he got a look at my body like that. I know I didn't pose for anything.

He also made some rather glaring mistakes with little Nicolo.

I think that may be a good thing.

I would hate to have seen your reaction if he got it right.

I would have to have him arrested for voyeurism.

That would be the only way he got anywhere near accuracy.

So long as it's only arresting that you were thinking of. I thought maybe there would be a duel.

Hardly fair when he would be losing from the start.

Besides. Death would be fast. Violation of my habibi needs suffering.

I don't know. I think it would have been very romantic and sexy for me to watch you take him apart, but very troublesome for the art world.

He already had 'David' and there would be nothing in the world that could surpass my love carved in marble.

He had done his duty.

You know. I'm sure you could take your hand to chisel and make your own version. For you, I would pose.

If you were in front of me, naked, and I got a chisel instead of taking full advantage of the situation then you should probably just assume I have brain damage.

This is why there are no great works by Yusuf Al-Kaysani in the galleries, is it?

Should I disrobe and see what happens?

I can tell you exactly what is going to happen, my love.

But demonstrations are much better.

In that case, I'm going to steal one of Andy's silk robes and I'll be in the bathroom, waiting.

Andy is never getting that robe back.

See you there, my love.