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Verse
Star
- Joined
- May 8, 2011
Coda had this fire around him, these last years. From having been a rather sweet daddy's boy growing up, he stepped out of his old man's shadow and met other boys. He could be considered a late bloomer, but a full wild garden when he sprung. His bones lifted him taller than most other contemporaries, and he hung some muscle on that otherwise spindly frame, too, mostly around his vast shoulders. His youth showed in the other, long limbs and the taut skin on his face. He shared some of those features with his father, too.
Going from cute to handsome overnight gave him power in his social circles. It was a power he came to abuse. He had loved his own metamorphosis and tired his best to push others through theirs as well. His dalliances were as eye-opening as they were hurtful to those he forced them on. Perhaps not everyone wanted to be as free as him. There certainly were a couple of broken hearts in his wake, when he taught them about themselves.
There were other sins; chemical, physical. Broken bones. Just a boy being a boy, really, following toxic impulses and perhaps old traditions. One thing was for sure, Coda was enjoying himself, likely too much, because he knew all his new pastimes were wrong. That's what made them delicious. From having been an obedient child into this barely adult, he was eating and choking on all the things he'd been avoiding, judging and out right feared when he still listened to his parents.
He was in his parents rooms now, because dad had asked him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed that he'd run to when he had nightmares as a kid. Nestled between his parents he'd be safe. In the daylight coming in from the window, hitting all the trinkets he hadn't seen in a while since he was never in here, he felt a bit nostalgic. And maybe that was why his old way of thinking reared itself. Why had dad asked him here? This would be a private conversation, with mom working the garden outside. From this angle she'd have to tend to the bushes right under the window to see in.
When dad had asked, he had been tense. Coda couldn't help but guess which of his sins dad might have discovered, even if dad hadn't looked grave in that way. He'd almost looked... embarrassed? Coda tugged the tie off his dark hair and kept the tie around his wrist. Black t-shirt and blue jeans on his lengthy frame. Maybe we are all reduced to the children we were, when we're waiting for our parents to see us, for a talk? He felt defensive, and still a bit reassured. He knew the kind of shame his lifestyle brought on the holier parts of his parent's personalities. He just thought they'd pretend they didn't know until he moved out.
Going from cute to handsome overnight gave him power in his social circles. It was a power he came to abuse. He had loved his own metamorphosis and tired his best to push others through theirs as well. His dalliances were as eye-opening as they were hurtful to those he forced them on. Perhaps not everyone wanted to be as free as him. There certainly were a couple of broken hearts in his wake, when he taught them about themselves.
There were other sins; chemical, physical. Broken bones. Just a boy being a boy, really, following toxic impulses and perhaps old traditions. One thing was for sure, Coda was enjoying himself, likely too much, because he knew all his new pastimes were wrong. That's what made them delicious. From having been an obedient child into this barely adult, he was eating and choking on all the things he'd been avoiding, judging and out right feared when he still listened to his parents.
He was in his parents rooms now, because dad had asked him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed that he'd run to when he had nightmares as a kid. Nestled between his parents he'd be safe. In the daylight coming in from the window, hitting all the trinkets he hadn't seen in a while since he was never in here, he felt a bit nostalgic. And maybe that was why his old way of thinking reared itself. Why had dad asked him here? This would be a private conversation, with mom working the garden outside. From this angle she'd have to tend to the bushes right under the window to see in.
When dad had asked, he had been tense. Coda couldn't help but guess which of his sins dad might have discovered, even if dad hadn't looked grave in that way. He'd almost looked... embarrassed? Coda tugged the tie off his dark hair and kept the tie around his wrist. Black t-shirt and blue jeans on his lengthy frame. Maybe we are all reduced to the children we were, when we're waiting for our parents to see us, for a talk? He felt defensive, and still a bit reassured. He knew the kind of shame his lifestyle brought on the holier parts of his parent's personalities. He just thought they'd pretend they didn't know until he moved out.