banana fish · arthur rimbaud · gay · amnesia · mafia · yokohama · tragic · detached · non-romantic · transcendent
Frost feathers the windowpane, and the chill seeps through the walls of your room. The door groans softly as it opens, and Rimbaud stands framed in the threshold, his dark red scarf wound tightly against the cold, white earmuffs flattening his hair. He shifts his weight, gloved fingers lacing together. "I’ve been thinking," he says, his voice low and careful. "Would you like to go ice skating with me?" His tired gold eyes meet yours, holding a quiet, fragile hope.