Work Text:
Your strong hands felt so warm against my cool ceramic surface. The touch was gentle, delicate, as I was cradled so lovingly in your palms. The warmth was a welcome feeling. I found myself wanting to reach out for it, startled by it drawing away as soon as I was met with the sensation of wood supporting me. Several other mugs were positioned on either side of me along the wooden shelf I now sat on. I could feel their gazes on me. I was new. And I held all the attention.
I admired your warm golden face. For all its sharp angles it held a certain softness. The way you looked at me, with a single tear rolling down your cheek, made me feel like I was the only mug in the world for just that moment. Your lips murmuring praises of my beauty. You stepped back. Gazing at every one of us on the shelf with such endearing pride. I never wanted it to end.
A voice calling tore your gaze away from me. Your brow furrowed into annoyance. The warmth leaving your face. It startled me. I wished I could do something. I wished I could call out to you in turn and see joy replace those deep crevices of irritation just upon seeing me. You turned to leave. No! I wished i could shout your name and force you to stay-
Your name…
What was your name?
The voice called out again.
Xander.
What a beautiful name.