#🕯 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖔 👁 𝖌𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖇𝖞𝖊 𓏴 ic.

[chrislaplante]

💬: we'll drink cheap beer. we'll ride the roller coaster until we throw up.

💬: ? 💬: who is this? 💬: mark? 💬: i think you have the wrong number.

[chrislaplante]

you’re looking very submissive and breedable today, king

submissive? certainly. but- breedable? "beg your pardon?" brows knit in a pray for a mistakenly heard word, though he knew better.

[chrislaplante]

*tap tap* pardon me, sir. Have you see my boyfriend? He’s a tall, tree like man with beautifully long blond hair. Possum energy. Enchanting eyes, a very cute smile, even though he’s shy about it. Sings for a band and has.. questionable taste in women. Seen him around anywhere? 😏

Possum energy? Are you sure you want to stick around with this guy? He doesn't sound like boyfriend material. Maybe cryptid material. Sasquatch type.

[chrislaplante]

“You’re almost like me.” Unprompted

long legs in crossed position as busy hands drew upon the pages of a thick sketchbook resting on his lap. he's hunched over, not quite getting the result on paper. this is when brows arch at the words spoken. blues are quick to find their owner (and her friend). i beg your pardon? he thought of saying.

“almost?” from under furrowed brow his attention was taken. messy strands falling forward and over his shoulders, he tries to correct his posture just enough to look at the girl speaking. the other - chris chose not to acknowledge. not until someone made it okay to. until someone confirmed he wasn't seeing things.

sock-clad feet try to tuck themselves away without much success as he shifts slightly. worn-out jeans get a new stain of charcoal as his hand brushes against his leg while the other closes the hard-cover sketchbook. session over.

sitting in the trunk of the van with the back doors wide open, he tried to think what exactly she meant. "are you-" he doesn't think he's seen her before, "um-" but then again, he didn't socialize much. "with one of the bands?"

[chrislaplante]

What do you think your relationship with your dad would be like now if he were still around?

chris shifts and sits up in the back of the van. he's quiet. more quiet than usual. suddenly empty. numb. no longer uncomfortable. he had to, step outside himself so he could deal with- the subject. it was subconscious, of course.

he never spoke about the man anymore. not even with the guys, his friends. they knew to steer clear of it. not because of chris' reaction, but because they knew it was an old wound that somehow still dully ached when pressed, like a bruise. maybe the occasional 'didn't your dad speak french?' or 'wasn't he canadian?' simple things, if they came up in casual conversation, but nothing more. there were a selected few who got to walk into that dark attic of his mind, where all of the memories and hurt involving his father were kept; his mother, his sister, and helena.

and maybe, he acknowledged, he was being all too cautious. too afraid. maybe. just maybe. not that he'd care to admit it so.

but the question stood. lingering in the air like the acrid scent of sweetened smoke after a gunshot is fired. a quiet, a stillness. it echoed and chris spoke, "i don't know."

the impulse-driven response would have been filled with anger, rage, maybe even hate. all of the obstacles his family faced after he died, all of chris' mental struggles, all of the hurt his mother had to endure- all of it was his fault. the man didn't deserve to be missed. to be that empty ache at the pit of his stomach when he felt lonely and abandoned. he didn't even deserve the resentment. he was better off where he was. rotting, buried somewhere he didn't care to revisit.

chris' shoulders, neck and back began to stiffen. he had to be dismissive or he'll carry this for a while. with a shrug of his shoulders, chris followed up. there's a venomous disconnect in his eyes as his brows raise and his head gives a shake, "not great, i'm sure."

there's a bitter taste in his mouth that makes him bite at the inside of his cheek. ironically, this was something his father also did when he became upset, as an attempt to not show the new injury given. and this is what chris resented the most. no matter what he did, how he felt, how much time had pass, the man was always there.

father's day meme.

[chrislaplante]

𖤐 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖘