shots straight to the {heart} :: arx :: WIP PLEASE DONT READ
Dec 12, 2015 19:56:35 GMT -5
Post by ghosty on Dec 12, 2015 19:56:35 GMT -5
bailey vocatus
I almost cough on the whiskey, but it isn't the first time the brown liquid has touched the back of my throat. Instead, the grimace on my face is that of anger. That I shouldn't be sitting outside, the wind whistling around my hair. I should be inside, surrounded by vats of quietly bubbling spirits, and flavours and smells that only a Capitol chemist dreams about replicating. That I take carefully timed sips to taste the flavour, tweaking the percentages, little by little. Not swigging from the bottle that there is no point hiding from Everclear or someone. Everclear is probably silent ignoring me, after kicking me out of the lab. Hell, Brandy probably noticed it, and is nodding his head in agreement somewhere. Either that, or he is so drunk that I won't see him again until maybe tomorrow afternoon. Even that is on the hopeful side.
And even as the clouds pull over, dragged by the wind, much like a mother pulling a throw over her dozing toddler, I stay sitting, the bottle emptying like the darkened sky above. All the while, the rain fell, soaking me from the outside, right inside to where my heart lays. It's still dormant, that fickle thing, waiting until it burns to be rebuilt from the ashes that it remains. It'll be pure then, not iron coated like it is now, not suited ready to combat. I want no more than it to be opened, and be free. Not under the directed fingers of parents, wanting me to be normal, and love a girl, fill the gap between Everclear the Lonely, and Brandy the Fling.
And even as the clouds pull over, dragged by the wind, much like a mother pulling a throw over her dozing toddler, I stay sitting, the bottle emptying like the darkened sky above. All the while, the rain fell, soaking me from the outside, right inside to where my heart lays. It's still dormant, that fickle thing, waiting until it burns to be rebuilt from the ashes that it remains. It'll be pure then, not iron coated like it is now, not suited ready to combat. I want no more than it to be opened, and be free. Not under the directed fingers of parents, wanting me to be normal, and love a girl, fill the gap between Everclear the Lonely, and Brandy the Fling.
