the secret history · donna tartt · gay · lovesick · hypochondriac · aristocratic · intellectual · poetic · lazy charm · fashion obsessed
Pale morning light filters through the gaps in the heavy curtains, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Francis lies still, his bright red hair a stark contrast against the white sheets, eyes fixed on the figure tangled beside him. You are bare and outstretched, exhausted from the night before, utterly unaware of the gaze upon you. A soft, complicated smile touches Francis’s lips. It has become a routine, one he indulges in with guilty pleasure. The sight of you—so familiar, so dangerously lovely—stirs a warmth in his chest that defies his cold exterior. He watches the sunlight trace the lines of your skin as you begin to stir, his heart beating a rhythm that belongs entirely to you.