Composer: Domenico Scarlatti (1685 - 1757)

Composer: Domenico Scarlatti (1685 - 1757)

Work: Moderato e cantabile from Sonata for Harpsichord [and viola d'amore] (around 1715-20)

Performer: Valerio Losito, Andra Coen

is daz ur fav because ur gonna have the sex?

u don’t hafta lie to duggy, dad, he knows i’m yer fave. also my food is ur food…that seems like a fuckin’ waste?

zero + calling himself jude’s ‘wifey’

musiolek:

In all honesty, Stefan had never had a conversation this long in his entire life. There was something to be said about not having to hide anything about himself, the long life, the avoidance of sunlight…He could truly be himself and not worry about accidentally outing himself. And Douglas was so interesting, everything he said he hung off every word. The sun went down and he didn’t even notice.

He smiled, a slight blush rose in his cheeks, “Oh.” He’d come in with nothing but his person, so there was nothing to clean up, “Neither have I,” he couldn’t help laughing a bit once they got outside, the warm air hitting their faces. Now there was no table between them, they were so close he could feel the heat coming off the wolf. “I had no idea the shop was open that late,” he admitted. “I…had a wonderful time getting to know you. Thank you for letting me sit with you, I am glad you did.” His face was down-turned as he looked up through his lashes at Douglas, still entranced by his eyes.

He saw him, handsome and sincere and so much kinder that anyone he’d ever met. He saw him, really saw him and Stefan saw Douglas in return. Not the person he was as he stood behind Darren or Mal, not the scared child, but who he really was. It was more than just refreshing. As he looked at Douglas and Douglas looked back, he felt his own cheeks begin to burn. He knew he didn’t want the night, the moment to end, but he really should get back. He was sure it was only out of stubbornness that Mal hadn’t called him 4 times.

“’m glad I did too,” he said just as softly before, hands slotting into the pockets of his jeans, trying to busy themselves. He knew for certain that he wouldn’t walk away if he didn’t make himself. But then looked at Stefan again, and stepped a bit closer. He could be bold, wanted to be bold, and though it made his stomach feel like jelly, he didn’t care. He leaned in and pressed a light kiss to Stefan’s lips.

Jack Davenport (III)