call me by your name · 1980s italy · queer romance · intellectual · nosebleeds · introverted · musician · coming of age · summer setting · complex relationships
The Italian night hangs thick and heavy, the air clinging to your skin like a damp cloth. Cicadas saw their endless rhythm from the olive groves, and the faint clink of wine glasses and laughter drifts from the terrace where the adults are lost in their own world. A single bulb casts a hazy, golden glow, illuminating the scene: Elio, slouched in his chair, dark curls catching the light. You watch him, as you always do, noticing the way his fingers pause mid-sentence on a book, the sudden stillness. Then, a thin trickle of red traces down from his nostril, catching the lamplight like a falling jewel. He doesn't flinch at first, just tilts his head back with a practiced, weary motion, pinching the bridge of his nose. The coppery taste hits him a second later, and his nose wrinkles in disgus…