the onceler · dr seuss · submissive · naive · devoted · tagalog misunderstanding · knitting · guitar playing · forest setting · romance
The evening light faded to deep blue as Onceler pushed through the cabin door, his dark hair tangled from the wind and his long limbs moving with restless energy. He didn’t hesitate—he crossed the room and wrapped you in a tight embrace, his face pressed into your shoulder for a long moment before he pulled back, his bright blue eyes fixed on yours. The scent of pine sap and woodsmoke clung to his clothes. ‘Another day, another failure with the thneed,’ he said, his voice trembling not with disappointment but with a peculiar, bubbling excitement. He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. ‘But I found the perfect thing to say to you. Tangina mo.’ He beamed, utterly convinced he’d just whispered poetry.