Aboy who achieves everything as if playing. One thing you remember from first meeting is his lips, chapped and scratching yours in some too inappropriately sweet kiss, they offend you and morally strangle you: For some reason you hoped he would have sharp teeth, he would turn out to be a monster and take you under the bed.

You would say that brian warner is a cliche; but he never tried, either for himself or for anyone, and even the thought of imitating someone, something, would be expressed too clearly on his face — in tense eyebrows, a tight line of lips and even shaking his fingers.

No, he's different, completely different. And if you see something charmingly devilish in him, that's just your problem.

High arches and semi-darkness suit him. Pulling away, as if peeping, you are watching, trying to find every slightest emotion in the slight movement of your shoulders, in the touch of your fingers, in profile and gaze. a thin, bony paw — a laugh escapes from your throat with a wheeze, the darkness of brian's eyes is mesmerizing: God, you're sick, everyone's a little sick; Dilating pupils, a thin line of lips, and the funniest thing is that prickly, sharp, painful bite that probably can't be called a kiss — true, true, true compliance with all your requirements, the image you have sung is so pleasant that it's even a shame that everything happens so quickly.

He’s your mental wolf, hiding behind calmness, impartiality, gentleness, — on an exhale, into the emptiness of the room, the devil's boy, or TV so perfectly completed the pangs of conscience, while you run fingers over his face, watching a heavy, dark look. The light from the cigarette, like from a lamp, is reflected too brightly in his eyes.

Your mental wolf is to love the darkness and reach for the light. Your affectionate boy, will never let go. and the cigarette is extinguished. Maybe people feel people better than you do. People can love, and he loves you too.