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hackthis_archiveI haven’t done this in a while. I might need my head examined.
SV: The Aesthetic Side of Things
It was the day that Lex wore the argyle socks that Clark found himself in trouble, he thinks.
Clark has always thought Lex reminded him of his cars: fast, sleek, shiny. Of course, they were the obvious attributes that everyone saw; and the socks that Lex wore on this particular day were unique though. Clark couldn’t ever remember Lex wearing anything but solid colors before. The socks were special, like Lex. They covered slim ankles with their black and purple patterns, and they were just so different. Carefully exposed between black pants and shiny shoes, winking at Clark and calling for his notice.
Clark didn’t know what to say. They were socks, and it would be so strange if he complemented Lex on his socks out of all the possibilities. Flawless skin and sharp eyes, long fingers tapping against a glass desk were the obvious points, and Clark never would have noticed the socks if he hadn’t dropped Lex’s pen. But there Clark was, on his hands and knees under Lex’s desk, and there were these socks, and they were so unexpected. Clark wanted to touch them.
And that was when Clark realized that he might have feelings for Lex that had nothing to do with friendship, because he was absolutely enamored of Lex’s socks and all those other little things that he never noticed before. And if Lex wore argyle socks then he might wear jeans as well, and tennis shoes and sweatshirts and lots of other things that Clark never thought of. It really didn’t matter if Lex ran around in a garbage bag with his feet covered in plastic bags. His clothes and his socks were just these things, and it was then that Clark understood: no matter what Lex wore, Clark would think he was beautiful.
HP: The Aesthetic Side of Things
Draco has a very slim definition of beauty, the kind the glamour spells are at a loss to create: his mother with her trim figure and his father with his long blonde hair. Photographs of him when he was smaller and his mother would parade him in his newest robes for her friends.
Draco has always been told that beauty comes from money and privilege and lineage and blood. Beauty comes from being right when others are wrong and the look of horror on Granger’s face when Draco insults her.
Draco finds beauty in plants that bring death and Slytherin colors flying high in the Great Hall.
He doesn't think his view is skewed.
There is no beauty in fingernails chewed to the quick with dirt ground underneath. And Draco’s aesthetic sensibilities are horrified by Potter covered in mud after Quidditch practise and the puddle he tracks along after him. There is nothing beautiful about Harry Potter and his heroic ways, but there’s something fascinating about his eyes which is only enhanced by his mud-spattered glasses. Potter's eyes are dull and ordinary, but the green is luminous and it makes Draco's throat go dry.
And for a very brief moment, Draco almost reconsiders his definition of beauty.
SV: The Aesthetic Side of Things
It was the day that Lex wore the argyle socks that Clark found himself in trouble, he thinks.
Clark has always thought Lex reminded him of his cars: fast, sleek, shiny. Of course, they were the obvious attributes that everyone saw; and the socks that Lex wore on this particular day were unique though. Clark couldn’t ever remember Lex wearing anything but solid colors before. The socks were special, like Lex. They covered slim ankles with their black and purple patterns, and they were just so different. Carefully exposed between black pants and shiny shoes, winking at Clark and calling for his notice.
Clark didn’t know what to say. They were socks, and it would be so strange if he complemented Lex on his socks out of all the possibilities. Flawless skin and sharp eyes, long fingers tapping against a glass desk were the obvious points, and Clark never would have noticed the socks if he hadn’t dropped Lex’s pen. But there Clark was, on his hands and knees under Lex’s desk, and there were these socks, and they were so unexpected. Clark wanted to touch them.
And that was when Clark realized that he might have feelings for Lex that had nothing to do with friendship, because he was absolutely enamored of Lex’s socks and all those other little things that he never noticed before. And if Lex wore argyle socks then he might wear jeans as well, and tennis shoes and sweatshirts and lots of other things that Clark never thought of. It really didn’t matter if Lex ran around in a garbage bag with his feet covered in plastic bags. His clothes and his socks were just these things, and it was then that Clark understood: no matter what Lex wore, Clark would think he was beautiful.
HP: The Aesthetic Side of Things
Draco has a very slim definition of beauty, the kind the glamour spells are at a loss to create: his mother with her trim figure and his father with his long blonde hair. Photographs of him when he was smaller and his mother would parade him in his newest robes for her friends.
Draco has always been told that beauty comes from money and privilege and lineage and blood. Beauty comes from being right when others are wrong and the look of horror on Granger’s face when Draco insults her.
Draco finds beauty in plants that bring death and Slytherin colors flying high in the Great Hall.
He doesn't think his view is skewed.
There is no beauty in fingernails chewed to the quick with dirt ground underneath. And Draco’s aesthetic sensibilities are horrified by Potter covered in mud after Quidditch practise and the puddle he tracks along after him. There is nothing beautiful about Harry Potter and his heroic ways, but there’s something fascinating about his eyes which is only enhanced by his mud-spattered glasses. Potter's eyes are dull and ordinary, but the green is luminous and it makes Draco's throat go dry.
And for a very brief moment, Draco almost reconsiders his definition of beauty.
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Date: 2002-12-16 07:49 pm (UTC)LOL! It's going to have to wait for a little disposable income, but it probably wouldn't take much to lure me in. Lucius is gorgeous, Snape intrigues me, and those boys would make my Inner Jailbaitist far too happy. Sigh.