listen to me butterfly (there’s only so much wine)

“I don’t remember what it feels like to be alive,” Elliot says, breaking the harsh silence that has enveloped the room.Monroe’s lips part in surprise. That is not what he was expecting. Helplessly, he scrambles for an appropriate response. “What do you mean? You’re not dead, Elliot.”“Sometimes I think I might as well be.” It’s a confession. Something begging for absolution. “I can’t feel, Monroe. I walk around every day with this constant pit in my stomach. I just…” His voice fizzles off and he hangs his head low in shame. “I mean… What do you do when there’s no way out?”An overwhelming need to help makes his vision white out and all he can think is do something.So he does. As softly as he can, he presses his lips to Elliot’s.Or: elliotmonroe yearning feat. guilt, piano music with latin titles as love confessions and a deep appreciation for biblical imagery