Closed Universally Speaking

[Samuel Phillips]

Being caught between the beginning and the end of a project was normal for Samuel, as stubborn as he was to admit it. In a limbo between a starting line and a resolution was where he found himself in every aspect of his existence, and where he always subsequently ended up whether he liked it or not. He was in between working on various art projects, in between the beginning and the end of decorating the house he and Jon shared, if Jon would keep from ruining the aesthetic and decor Samuel tirelessly sought for in every room. He was in between telling Charlotte he was hopelessly in love with her and mending his issues by his own standards before he could commit to being with her in the way she deserved, and also in between the decision to find someone to needle ink into his skin, and show off his completed tattoo with an image he would consider perfect. It was the latter that currently had Samuel’s attention and the collateral that burdened him; as he stood in his walk in closet, clad in his favorite robe and pajamas and with a steaming cup of coffee on his nearby vanity as he organized and attempted to plan outfits to show off, although not highlight the unfinished project on his arm. It was undeniably in progress, with an outline of the finished image although no shading or detail or substance, in an ironic spin in the same limbo as the rest of his life. Samuel was burdened by unfinished projects, whether he intentionally avoided completion or became too obsessed over the finer details to complete the larger picture. He was an unfinished project, and with his obsession over his appearance and fear of judgement he was never enough, while simultaneously judging anyone else who might plan outfits to match a half completed tattoo, he was nothing if not a hypocrite too. He could imagine himself scoffing in judgement if he heard a story of anyone else in the exact same predicament. Yet there he was, picking up his cup of coffee and sipping from it momentarily as he looked over another outfit he had attempted to plan to no avail.

Frowning in the midst of a thought, Samuel returned his coffee to the vanity, shaking his head and returning the hanger and the jacket from the outfit to its place in his closet. As exhausting as it was, he needed to remind himself to shop for something new to spice up his wardrobe, possibly something edgier to match the aesthetic he intended to embody. He also realized he needed to invest in a few pairs of gloves, on the off chance he needed to attend a party with guests that frowned upon people with tattoos, a practicality Samuel had surprisingly not previously thought of. As his eyes browsed the blazers and various outerwear of the rack he was sifting through, Samuel heard shuffling in his room and spoke. “There’s coffee on the nightstand.” He announced, not looking up or drawing his attention away from the rack of clothes as he picked a blazer and looked it up and down. “Tell me what you think of this blazer.” Samuel then said, looking between the blazer and the other items of clothing on the ottoman. “Too much?” He then asked, gaze averting over his shoulder to the doorway as he awaited Gabe’s answer. ​

 

[Ainsley Lynch]

AINSLEY LOOKED AROUND AND REALISED SHE WAS IN A STRANGERS HOUSE AND WALKED RIGHT BACK OUT WHAT WAS SHE EVEN DOING HERE

 

[Gabriel Blume]

Ironically for someone of his profession, Gabriel didn't much like permanence. He had spent a lot of his life moving, finding new places to call home, going from relationship to relationship, mentor to mentor, never staying many places for long. The last place he had settled was France, and that had lasted a couple of years too long. But something about coming back to New Zealand felt different, and he had found himself making a home again. The last straw had been setting up his own shop, after a couple of years guesting at whatever studios would have him. Starting a business was a root Gabriel had avoided putting down for as long as he could, but it seemed he was well and truly settled back in New Zealand.

Another thing that had lasted longer than he had expected was this fling with Samuel. Gabriel was under no illusions that they were going to be together forever, which somehow made the arrangement more comfortable. Commitment had never been his style, not for a very long time, and the fact that they both knew that wasn't the goal made things with Sam feel safe. Still, sometimes Gabriel was beginning to feel the strain of such a long-term acquaintance, times like now, when he heard rustling and knew instinctively that Sam would be going through his clothes. He didn't think he had ever met anyone so obsessed with their own appearance, an impressive feat in a career like his. He sat up and yawned, picking up the offered coffee with a bit of surprise when Sam mentioned it and taking a grateful swig. That certainly wasn't a bad way to start the morning. He swung himself out of bed and crossed to the door of the walk-in closet, sipping his coffee as he went. Gabriel couldn't hold back a small laugh at Sam's question, raising one eyebrow. "Since when is 'too much' a bad thing?" He teased, leaning in the doorframe idly. "I think it suits you."