torquill: Art-deco cougar face (Default)
[personal profile] torquill
I dreamt about Spock.

Young Spock, TOS age, in a quiet storage room, content to bury his face in my hair when I wrapped my arms around his long, lean body. His voice was not the smooth baritone of Zachary Quinto, but the rich resonance of Leonard Nimoy. There was humor in it as he recounted some anecdote, and unlike the strangeness of his amusement in the original series, it was the most natural thing in the world as he smiled down at me.

I told him I was happy to hear him laugh. He seemed slightly puzzled by this, but made no comment. I laid my face against his shirt and thought for a while, and shed a couple of tears, then I hiccuped a little and said that someday I would tell him about my Spock. Unhappy, driven, full of uncertainty, relying on a rigid frame of logic to hold him together. Too full of pain to relax and let himself laugh, or love.

This Spock just led me to a bundle of uniforms and pulled me down beside him to cuddle.
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torquill: Art-deco cougar face (Default)
Torquill

May 2021

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