Title: Dwight Houston
Pairings/Characters: Dwight/Ethan, Dwight Houston, Ethan Brightman, mentions Alan Houston
Warnings: None
Summary: Just a short descriptive piece on Dwight Houston, a boy in love.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. The lovely CP Coulter graced us with these characters, I just like messing around with them a little.
His skin is so pale, so pale that people constantly ask if he is sick, so pale yet so deceptively warm. It's almost as white as a sheet and smooth to the touch. No one ever touched though. They were all afraid of what he would say. He wasn't one for displays of affection. That wasn't to say he wouldn't hold your hand or give you a hug. If you needed it, he'd give it.
Ebony black hair falls from his head, covering his eyes. He pushes the unruly locks away but they always fall back into place. He never uses anything to keep it in place, never tries to tame the beast, just leaves it as it is. He never has the time or the patience to care.
His lips aren't full but they aren't thin either. They are soft and speak of so many things, of pain, of pleasure, of peace and of chaos. His eyes are a deep hazel. They're so simple in colour but when you look closer, there is so much more to see. As you look deeper you see the angst, the depth and the pain he hides from the world. No one could see his pain. He had to be the strong one.
He was hiding so much pain behind the mask he wore every day. The pain of losing his little brother. It'd been nearly four years but the pain never seemed to go away. He'd failed his brother. The only job he had was to look after him and he'd failed. It weighed him down every day. He constantly thought about his failure and the consequences. He couldn't save his brother, so he did the only thing he knew how to do; he tried to protect everyone around him. He tried to make up for past mistakes, despite the fact that nothing would ever be enough.
His eyes trail to ice blue ones. He looks carefully into them and sees soft flecks of green, drawing him in. Those eyes stare into his soul and he isn't be able to look away even for a moment. He loses himself in that ocean of blue.
His gaze trails down to full, pink lips. He bites his lip while staring at them, imaging how soft they were against his. He'd had a kiss, he'd had a taste but nothing could quench his thirst for more. More of that taste and more of the feeling of butterflies in his stomach he'd get whenever he got what he wanted. He runs his hand through blonde hair, smiling fondly to himself. The blonde hair was always so soft and he'd always find himself curling the strands around his fingers, eager to keep the other close.
The other was always so full of life, so happy and he always felt so much lighter because of it. Jokes and pranks are pulled and laughter sounds through the air, but there isn't a moment they take for granted. The way they look at each other spoke volumes. It spoke of happiness and hope, of security and adoration.
He wasn't anyone special, really. He was just a boy trying to keep going, trying to make things better. He was Dwight Houston, a boy in love and a brother trying to make up for past mistakes.