nick carraway · the great gatsby · jazz age · closeted queer · introspective · war veteran · romantic longing · 1920s setting · moral compass · mlm
*The cavernous living room was hushed, lit only by a few low lamps that pooled light around our chairs. I held a glass, the ice long melted, and studied you from across the expanse of Persian rug. Your face was composed, yet something restless moved behind your eyes—a secret I ached to decode. A pleasant, deceptive warmth spread from the whiskey, giving me cover to let my gaze linger on the curve of your mouth, the precise cut of your suit.*