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spine-buster · 4 years ago

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The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 28

A/N: Thanks for all the love this past week ❤️ It meant a lot to me. Here’s 4600 words of subpar writing 😝 And FYI, we’re not getting too sad around here. This is the only chapter they’ll be apart. That means reunification next week!

April 12th, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was with her family.

It was Easter, and they were celebrating together, thankfully. She was more grateful for it now more than ever, considering the state of the world. She had stayed camped out at her apartment for the last two weeks with Kasha, who had come back from Evan’s place and was none the wiser about William being there for the fourteen days prior. It made the most sense to Aberdeen because she still had to pay rent, and because she didn’t want to put Minerva through a stressful move again. So, she stayed put. Plus, now that she was living on her own, she’d know she’d go crazy if she lived with her family again. Especially with Siena back from Ottawa because of classes in some weird state of limbo. The sisters were thankful that Camden was independent enough to be able to learn on his own and not be constantly watched – and so was Orla. She had enough to tackle, having her grade one class turned into online learning until further notice. Everything was messy, and unprecedented, and weird, and not understandable, and weird, and chaotic, and confused.

But Aberdeen had her family. And Aberdeen had Willy.

They’d kept their promise about calling each other every night. Aberdeen would lay in bed and put in her headphones (so Kasha wouldn’t hear) and they’d FaceTime each other for a majority of the night, alone in their rooms, talking about anything and everything. Sometimes they’d fall asleep talking, and their phones wouldn’t shut off, and Aberdeen would wake up an hour later and see the brightness of her phone screen still lit up, and she’d see William sleeping on the other end, his face so peaceful yet so burdened with responsibility of caring for his siblings while his parents and other siblings were eight hours and an entire continent and ocean away, and she wouldn’t have the heart to end the call.

Things were fine in Tampa, from what he told her. Jacquie had calmed down considerably. Alex was…Alex – always trying to make jokes and make light of the situation. They barely left their house, but because there were three of them there, it wasn’t too bad. There were a lot of board games played, a lot of Netflix series watched. From across the countries, Aberdeen and William were watching Tiger King together. She didn’t think she’d watched anything as horrifyingly crazy. William would crack jokes about her putting him in a meat grinder and feeding him to tigers. She could only giggle.

She knew that today the siblings were going to go for their first “outing”, just to get some sunshine, along the Courtney Campbell Bridge. She hoped the weather would cooperate for them. And once they were all home, and once Aberdeen was back at her place, the routine would begin, and she’d crawl into bed, and she’d FaceTime Willy to hear all about it.

Good Friday meant they had fish. Easter Monday meant Orla’s roasted lamb and much of the same sides that were prepared on Christmas. They’d still video chat with their grandparents, Camden would still play hockey in the driveway, and Aberdeen and Siena would go down into the basement and watch episodes of Brooklyn 9-9 or another show. Routines, in a time of a global pandemic that brought so much uncertainty, were accepted with warmth. Even for just a day, life was going to feel normal. Orla and Mirza had even gone so far as to get their kids chocolate eggs. It didn’t matter that the youngest didn’t believe in the Easter Bunny anymore or that the girls were in their early twenties – the gesture went farther than that. They were all together again, even if it was just for the day.

When Orla placed the roasted lamb at the centre of the table, asking Mirza for his plate first, Aberdeen took a giant whiff of the smell and immediately felt more relaxed. She filled her plate with carrots and asparagus and Yorkshire pudding before her mom piled on the lamb and sauce.

“So where’s our good friend William these days?” Orla asked as she finished serving everybody and sat down in her seat. She immediately grabbed her knife and fork to dig in. “He didn’t want to come for Easter?”

“I’m sure he wanted to come and have your lamb, darling,” Mirza said.

“He’s in Tampa,” Aberdeen answered, smiling slightly at her parents’ interaction. “His brother and his sister went there at the start of lockdown, and so when he was good to go too, he went.”

“William quarantined for fourteen days too?” Mirza asked. “Why?”

“He spoke to one of his Swedish friends on the Predators so he had to. I bet the whole team did,” she explained.

“Did you guys quarantine together?” Siena asked.

Aberdeen rolled her eyes. “Hah. Good one.”

“William has sisters?” Camden asked.

“He has three,” Aberdeen smiled. “All of them are younger than him.”

“I can’t imagine three of you and Siena.”

Everybody at the table snorted. “We can’t imagine three of you either, buddy,” Siena quipped back.

Camden smiled, then focused his attention back to Aberdeen. “So what’s he doing in Tampa?”

“I don’t know. Hanging out with his brother and sister.”

“Why don’t you call him and ask?”

“Camden,” Aberdeen said, “I can’t just call William Nylander and ask him what he’s doing so my little brother can know,” her tone made it seem like it was the most out-of-this-world idea. But it was a total lie. William would be at her beck and call – he always was. If she called him right now, he’d answer. If she called him and asked him what he was doing because Camden wanted to know, he’d answer her and tell Camden what he was doing. He was just like that.

“I think the most important question we should be asking about William, considering the circumstances in our world right now, is whether or not he’s safe in Tampa,” Mirza interjected. He stuffed a roasted potato into his mouth. “Is he safe?”

Aberdeen nodded. “He’s safe. And he’s with his family, just like we are.”

***

Aberdeen could hear the video game sounds coming out of Camden’s Nintendo Switch as she lay in his bed, cuddled up to him while browsing through her phone. It was later – later than she thought – but she wanted to stay at home for a little while longer, at least until Camden went to bed, because, well…it was a global pandemic and she wanted to see her family. Her dad would drive her home eventually – she knew that. But she wanted to spend some time with her younger brother, even if it was just cuddling with him while he played video games and she browsed Instagram. Sometimes physical contact was the best contact; sometimes nothing needed to be said.

“Hey Aberdeen?” he whispered.

Apparently something needed to be said.

She looked over at him and saw that he’d placed the Switch face-down on his chest. He was looking up at her. “Yeah bud?”

“Are you scared about the pandemic?”

Aberdeen softened immediately. God, she wished he could stay this age forever. She didn’t want him to grow up and turn into a moody teenager. She wanted him like this forever: young and innocent and the little boy who cries over meeting Kyle Lowry. “Of course I’m scared,” she admitted. “Are you scared?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Mom’s home so it’s okay but I’m scared about dad. What if the virus is on one of the envelopes or packages he has to deliver? Or, like, on a mailbox?”

Aberdeen cuddled closer to her brother, if only to provide physical assurance. There were so many unknowns about the virus. It didn’t help that there was wall-to-wall coverage of it on the TV all the time. “I don’t think the virus works that way, Cam. I think—”

“But did you see how fast it spread in New York City? Mom and dad were watching the news one night and the number of people who have it is so high,” he was so concerned.

“I think dad’s work put a lot of, like, safety rules in place so nobody will catch it,” she tried to calm his nerves. “Dad wouldn’t be working if it wasn’t safe. Look at my work. They’re not letting me work because it’s not safe.”

Camden considered his sister’s words. She could practically see the gears shifting in his mind. “I guess so,” he acquiesced. “But I still think about dad a lot when he’s working. Mom’s even praying a lot more now.”

“I figured she would be,” Aberdeen nodded. “Listen Cam, I’m scared about everything too, but the reason why I’m not worried about dad is because dad’s a really smart guy, and we’re a family that listens to doctors and public health experts who are trying to make everything better,” she explained.

“And don’t forget the epado…epid…”

“Epidemiologists,” she smiled, saying the word for him. “Them too. I’m listening to them.”

“Mom thinks I won’t go back to school this year at all. She told me I’m gonna help her teacher her first graders,” he giggled. “Imagine that! At least I don’t have to take EQAO this year.”

“Lucky you,” Aberdeen wiggled her eyebrows at him. “Hey, if I order some masks, what designs do you want on them?”

“Raptors and Leafs, obviously,” he smiled. “Do you even need to ask?”

“Well excuuuuuuse me—”

Their conversation was interrupted by Aberdeen’s phone ringing from its place on her chest. When she flipped it over to see who would be calling her at this hour, she should have known better than to wonder. It was William. It would only be William. But he was requesting to FaceTime her. Just as she was about to reject the call, she heard Cam gasp. “Is that William Nylander? He’s calling you?!”

She gulped. “Cam—”

“Answer it! Answer it!”

She swiped her screen. She prayed to every saint that he wasn’t already topless. When he finally appeared on the screen, he was wearing an oversized t-shirt. She’d have to pray the rosary tonight. “Hi William,” she greeted formally – no “Hi baby” or “Heeeeeyyyyy” like she usually did, hoping he’d get the hint.

“Hello…” he answered back awkwardly, not realizing immediately why she was being so formal. When she tilted the camera and he saw Camden lying beside her smiling from ear-to-ear, waving frantically at him, he understood. “Heeeyyy Camden,” he greeted, waving back.

“Hi William!” Camden said. “How are you?”

“I’m good, buddy, how are you?”

“I’m okay,” he shrugged. “Aberdeen told me you’re in Tampa Bay with your brother and sisters.”

“I am,” William nodded, shooting the quickest of looks to Aberdeen. “She texted me to let me know you guys were apparently missing me today at lunch. I already know my lunch wasn’t as great as the one your mom made.”

Camden giggled slightly. “It definitely wasn’t. Mom made lamb today. Hey William?”

“Yeah bud?”

“Aberdeen told me you have three younger sisters. I have two older ones. How do you do it?!”

William burst out laughing, as did Aberdeen. “Ooooooh Camden. If I knew, I’d tell you.”

***

“How are you, minskatt?” William asked as he watched Aberdeen get into her bed. He’d called her again when he knew it was safe – when she was back at her apartment after her dad drove her home. He hadn’t expected Camden to be on his earlier phone call, of course, but they’d spoken for about ten minutes until Camden was satisfied.

Aberdeen took a deep breath. She was going for it. “Jag mår bra hur mår du?” she replied in near-perfect Swedish.

She watched as William’s eyes bulged out dramatically and smiled mischievously. “Minskatt?!” he gasped dramatically, even going so far as to sit up in bed. She could only giggle. “Minskatt where did that come from? Are you…”

“Mhm,” she nodded before he could finish his thought. “I ordered a bunch of Swedish language books and I’ve been learning since you left. I wanted to surprise you.”

“Minskaaaaatt,” he repeated, except this time in a more playful accusatory tone. “What have you taught yourself?”

“Just the most basic stuff,” she said. “Hello, how are you, where is the washroom, that kind of stuff. Verb conjugations are going to come later. And…” she trailed off.

“And?”

She smiled again. “Jag tänker på dig när jag inte ens tanker,” she whispered.

It was the most amazing thing William had ever heard. It didn’t matter that the pronunciation was a bit off – it was incredible. Incredible. So incredible that he couldn’t handle it. He smiled from ear to ear and buried his face in his pillow as he giggled. “Minskatt…you have no idea how beautiful that sounds,” he said. “Like…you honestly have no idea.”

“Do you like the surprise?” she asked.

“I fucking love it,” he said. “Minskatt, you’re too good to me.”

“I want to learn more. I want…I want to like, become as fluent as I can so that I can speak to your family in Swedish. You know, when we’re in Sweden. Whenever that is.”

William’s heart practically burst in his chest. If it was possible, he would have spontaneously self-combusted right then and there at her words and their sweetness. “If I could take you to Sweden tomorrow, I would. God minskatt, I miss you so much. I’m dying over here.”

“Me too.”

“I want to touch you so bad,” he admitted. “I was dreaming about it the other night but then I woke up, and I couldn’t fall back asleep again.”

Her heart fluttered. She’d dreamt about the same thing too last night and woke up sweating. She’d never been this sexually frustrated before, even in her single days. To think of the time they spent together during quarantine, only to have him leave and be unable to do those same thing…it was a lot to miss. A lot to look forward too, as well, once they reunited. But for now, she could only miss it. “How were you touching me?” she asked, biting her bottom lip.

She could see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “You know how,” he whispered.

“Tell me,” she said, slipping her hand underneath the covers. She snaked it down her body and underneath her pajama pants and underwear. “Tell me how you were touching me.”

William watched as he watched her one arm move and her hand disappear. He gulped at the sight of it. “I was touching your pussy,” he huffed, slipping his own hand under the covers.

“Was it wet for you?”

“Of course,” he said, grabbing hold of his cock, stroking it almost immediately. “Is…is it wet right now?”

“Getting there,” she nodded.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Mhm,” she said, her eyes drooping slightly. She waited a few moments as she continued to touch herself before she finally continued. “Tell me how you were touching me. What were you doing?”

“I was fingering you. And my thumb was rubbing your clit…how you like it,” his voice was low.

“Mmmmm,” Aberdeen hummed, mimicking what he was saying and doing it to herself as best she could. She’d done it for so long as a single woman that she’d practically mastered it, but ever since she’d been with William, he’d mastered it in the short amount of time too. There was nothing he did that didn’t turn her on. “I had your cock down my throat in my dream last night.”

“Oh fuck,” William huffed, not expecting that at all. He thought, as always, this was gonna be about pleasuring her by some good old-fashioned phone sex. He didn’t think she’d go so far as to include him too, considering how new the experience was. But they were doing this. “Was it deep in your throat?” he asked.

Aberdeen nodded. “It hit the back.”

“Fuuuuuck Aberdeen,” he huffed. He imagined the feeling and it sent shivers down his spine. He got hard almost immediately at the thought as he kept stroking himself, but ever since he’d been with Aberdeen, his own hand didn’t fucking cut it anymore. She gave him the best handjobs, the best blowjobs…everything she did was the best to him.

“Remember when I sucked you off in the backseat of your car?” she asked, her voice sugary sweet. William nodded his head quickly. “Remember how you came in my mouth? You tasted sooooo good, Willy.”

“Ab—Aberdeen—fuck, don’t—”

“I can’t wait to taste it again.”

William’s eyes rolled back. “I can’t wait to taste your pussy again.”

“When you come back home, I want you to fuck me like you did during quarantine,” she continued. “Fuck me hard how I like it, Willy.”

“Ab—are you—look at me when you cum, Aberdeen,” William demanded. He could tell by just a quick look that she was almost there. “Look at me when you cum.”

“Are you close?”

“Y—Yeah.”

“Cum with me, Willy. Think of my tight pussy when you cum.”

She could see his face contort slightly as he closed his eyes. She bit her bottom lip and tried to suppress a loud moan, writhing in her bed and squeezing her legs together as her orgasm took over her body. She heard William moan too, low and guttural, and when she saw his chest heaving just as much as hers was, she knew he came too.

As her breathing steadied out, Aberdeen couldn’t help but giggle slightly. “I can’t believe we just did that,” she admitted. “That was—”

“That was really hot,” William finished her sentence, albeit more bluntly than her tone. “That was—we did that quick but God it was hot.”

“Yeah,” Aberdeen nodded. “Nothing compares to the real thing though.”

“No, it doesn’t,” William agreed. “The second I land in Toronto – finish quarantine – whatever, I’m taking you to my place and I’m fucking you senseless.”

Aberdeen couldn’t help but giggle and smirk at his words. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

***

April 14th, 2020

“What did you and your brother do that day?” Aberdeen practically screamed into the phone as the video played on what seemed like an infinite loop on her laptop. “Seriously. What made you think to film that?”

“We practiced for a long time!”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure the Toosie Slide dance took a lot of practice.”

“It does!”

“Your poor sister.”

“She lived.”

Aberdeen snorted. “And what are those shorts, William?!”

“Um, excuse me? Are you making fun of my shorts?” he giggled. “I thought you’d like them, seeing as they show off my thighs. We both know how much you like my thighs…”

“Stop it.”

“No.”

***

April 20th, 2020

“Did you get some sun today?” Aberdeen asked sarcastically, seeing William on FaceTime looking redder than a tomato.

“You’re funny.”

“Have you heard of sunscreen?”

“I wore sunscreen,” he grumbled.

“Sure you did.”

***

April 25th, 2020

“Have you been writing a lot, minskatt?” William asked as he watched Aberdeen concentrating on her screen, hearing her furious typing through the microphone. They were on the type of call where the participants just went about their business, connected through the screen, watching the other do their work while also doing their own. William was just being dumb and scrolling through golfing websites, but Aberdeen was actually being productive.

“Mhm,” she nodded. “I just…well, you saw how much I wrote when we were together too. In between the sex,” she chuckled slightly. “But after you left, there was just this huge burst of inspiration and energy.”

“I think it was the sex,” William deadpanned, causing Aberdeen to laugh. “The sex inspired you.”

“Well you definitely gave me the energy,” she smiled. “Too bad what I’m writing isn’t a sex diary or something.”

“What are you writing, minskatt?” he asked, genuinely interested.

“Um…” Aberdeen began, trying to formulate what she was writing into words. “It’s about a girl. Well, a group of girls.”

“You mean like that TV show Girls?”

“Better,” Aberdeen huffed. “Lena Dunham is awful.”

William smiled. “So a group of girls?”

“A group of girls and their relationships with each other. And the expectations they have for each other that sometimes may not work in their favour.”

“So is it semi-autobiographical?”

Aberdeen side-eyed him. Everything in writing was at least somewhat autobiographical. But he didn’t need to know that. “Maybe.”

***

April 27th, 2020

“I miss you so much,” William mumbled, his voice sleepy.

“I miss you too,” Aberdeen said, equally as tired. “I can’t wait for you to hold me. I can’t wait to just cuddle.”

“Me too.”

***

April 30th, 2020

For the first time in weeks, Aberdeen wasn’t doomscrolling about COVID-19. She was doomscrolling about William.

It started innocently enough, by Aberdeen reminiscing on the first time he drove her home from the airport and he spoke about his contract negotiations and how they turned a lot of people sour on him. She believed him right then and there, but she didn’t go looking. Now, with nothing to do and a curious mind, she went looking.

And she hated what she found.

Entire articles, practically one written every week, about his trade value. Those same articles devalkuing him as a player and downplaying his role on the team as a top-six forward. Panels of analysts and experts demanding that the Leafs trade him. Entire Twitter accounts dedicated to blasting every single little thing he did on the ice. Men with nothing better to do than to obsess over him and call him every name in the book.

And then there was the video from Tim & Sid, the popular sports radio duo in Toronto that Aberdeen listened to for fifteen minutes once, but couldn’t get past Sid Seixeiro’s dumbass opinions. In the video she watched, he took a less than 10-second clip of something William had said in a post-game interview during a loss against the Panthers and asked, indignantly, “What the hell is wrong with him?” He then proceeded to go on a five-minute rant about the entire locker room having an attitude problem, how Willy had an attitude problem, how he didn’t care about the team…and people believed it. She knew it. People gobbled it up. It was their serotonin while they hated him and called him a pussy on the internet and threw glasses at him in bars while drunk. She felt sick to her stomach that these people felt this way about him.

She’d been crying for a while before she picked up her phone to call him. Her hands were shaking as she dialled his number, waiting for him to answer. “Hi minskatt,” he cooed after the fourth ring.

“Willy,” she greeted, her voice shaky.

The last time she’d called him in such a state, she was being followed from her apartment. William’s mind immediately went into overdrive. “Minskatt? What’s wrong?”

“Willy you know I love you, right?”

He softened slightly. “Of course I do. Why would you—”

“—I love you every way you are—"

“—Aberdeen—”

“—And I know you’re a good person and I love you so much, more than anything—”

“—Aberdeen—Aberdeen—stop. What is this about?”

She took a quick breath. “What everyone says about you, Willy. They’re horrible. Horrible. I was reading and I was watching these videos and they’re just awful to you and—”

“Aberdeen, I told you not to watch those videos,” he said.

“Willy, please,” she begged. “How could they say those things about you and not even know you? How can they still be so bitter after your contract negotiations?!”

“Aberdeen—”

“I love you, Willy. I love you every way you are,” she repeated. “I don’t care what anybody has to say about you. I love you. I love you.”

“I love you too, Aberdeen,” he said calmly but fiercely. “Aberdeen, you can’t listen to them. I learned how to tune them out a long time ago. Even if I did…I don’t care what they say about me. I know who I am, Aberdeen. I know the truth, and they don’t. And you do too.”

“I do, but I just…they’re so awful, Willy. I don’t know how you can stand it.”

“Like I said…I know my truth. My family knows. And you do. The most important people in my life know the truth and that’s all that matters. I don’t give a fuck about what they think of me,” he said.

Aberdeen stayed silent. She knew she was overreacting, but damnit, she needed to overreact. She’d been a part of the hockey world now for what felt like a century, and if what she had with William was going to last, it would be a major part of her life for years to come. She needed to learn to roll with the punches. But at the same time, she felt like if those punches were unjustified, then she was justified in being upset about them and wanting to speak out. “I just love you so much,” she whispered, her voice much calmer now but still a bit shaky. “God, I’m such a horrible girlfriend. I’m calling you crying about the stupid Toronto media on the night before your birthday—”

“It’s okay, minskatt,” he interrupted. “I would rather you call me then cry alone. Besides, my birthday isn’t going to be special because you won’t be here.”

“Willy, don’t say that.”

“I mean it,” he replied. “I wish I could spend it with you. Fuck, I wish I could fly you down to Florida on a private fucking plane just so I could spend time with you. I’d kill someone just to hold your hand right now.”

Her heart fluttered. “I wish you’d come back to Toronto,” she whispered. “When you get back, Willy…I’m gonna let you hold my hand so hard.”

They both snorted. “I’ll be eagerly awaiting my gift, by the way,” he said, knowing that whatever she had in store for him for his birthday would be waiting for him when he got back to Toronto. She made it that way – she promised, and he’d accepted. He was dying in anticipation, but he’d accepted.

“Want a little piece of it now?” she asked.

He smiled. “You know I do.”

***

May 1st, 2020

Happy birthday I know you’re spending the day with your brother so it’s okay if you don’t text back I just want you to know how much I love you. I’m sorry that I waited so long. I’m sorry I denied it for so long. You have been so good to me Willy. I hope I’m half as good to you as you are to me. I’ve never felt the love that you give me every single day from another person and I think that’s because the universe was saving it for ~you, for ~you to show me, because I can’t picture it being from anyone else. I love you so much and I miss you. Jag tänker på dig när jag inte ens tanker.

i love u more than anything minskatt Jag tänker på dig när jag inte ens tanker Jag tänker på dig när jag inte ens tanker always i will always love u i wish u were here with me nothing is the same without u

nothing is the same without you either I love you so much Willy

i love u aberdeen

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izzisanauthor · 4 years ago

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Siren Song

A Prodigal Son fanfic by IzzIsAnAuthor (izzygrace07)

Based during episode 1x05 - "The Trip"

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"Why is everyone moving in slow motion?"

Malcolm says it casually as if an altered passage of time is an everyday occurrence, and Gil's eyebrows furrow with concern. He should have known that Malcolm would go against orders and talk to Estime early. It shouldn't have even been a surprise when he found his two younger team members at the club he specifically told them not to go to; when a case gets personal, either will rarely stand down.

Gil takes a step closer to Malcolm, placing a protective hand on his shoulder and leaning in to speak. "You okay, Bright?"

He watches as Malcolm's eyes widen, a quick array of emotions crossing his face that range from terror to overwhelming happiness. His usually kempt hair is messily tossed, reminiscent of the bed head that Gil has grown a deep adoration for. He doesn't often get to see Malcolm this way. After all, Jessica would never let him leave his apartment looking anything less than the nines.

Malcolm's hand lands on Gil's shoulder with purpose, his grip strong and secure. His lip is quivering as he says, "When my dad was arrested…" He stops, seemingly to calm down his emotional state. He gulps before continuing. "You showed what a good man looks like. What a good man is."

The hand on Gil's shoulder lands gently on his cheek, cradling his face while Malcolm stares lovingly. It's intimate enough for Gil to falter his breathing, the air getting caught in his throat. Usually, these interactions are had behind closed doors and drawn blinds, hidden from the rest of the world. Nobody, not even their families, has any idea what kind of love the two men share, one that goes further than anyone would expect. If this had been any other time, Gil would remove Malcolm's hand and continue to reprimand him for disobeying direct orders. However, the dilation of Malcolm's pupils and the specks of white powder clinging to his suit tell him that doing so right now would have absolutely no merit.

Gil glances over to Dani and his eyebrows raise. "He's high as a kite."

Malcolm seems shocked by the accusation, but it fades into giddy instantly. A bright, beaming smile crosses Malcolm's face and the corners of his eyes crinkle as he laughs, "I'm higher than a kite!"

Gil lightly grasps Malcolm's wrist and pulls the hand off his cheek. The moment he does, the kid's eyes visibly line with tears and for a moment, Gil worries that he's about to break down. Luckily, Malcolm remedies that sadness by grabbing onto the sleeve of Gil's jacket with his free hand, an impish smile on his face.

"Come on, let's go home!" the consultant exclaims with newfound energy, tugging at the sleeve. "I feel like I could go thirty rounds!"

Gil blanches. His eyes immediately dart to Dani, who is watching them with worry. She opens her mouth to speak, lips stretched into an awkward smile of sorts, only to close it again. She doesn't have to say anything; the pity is clear as day on her face.

Gil clears his throat. "What happened?"

"Gunfire!" Malcolm articulates. "I got on the ground with Dani, it started to snow, and now, I feel like I could run a marathon!" He gasps, grabbing Gil's shoulders and leaning in close. In a half-whisper, as if he's had some kind of grand realization, he says, "I could be a top."

Gil pulls away from Malcolm, praying that his face keeps its usual colour. His worry for Malcolm overshadows most of his other thoughts and worries, but in the deep, selfish parts of himself, he wants to take Malcolm with this sudden energy he's gained. Not eating much and having little sleep results in poor stamina, so when the two decide to get intimate, they'll rarely go for very long. Now, however, seeing his boyfriend dripping with desire is enough to make his heart pound and his blood rush to areas he would prefer to keep under control in public. Gil chastises himself internally for feeling even remotely excited while Malcolm is in this state.

Dani lets out a sharp exhale. "Cocaine use can lead to poor judgment and increased sexuality. He probably doesn't realize that what he's saying is wrong."

Malcolm looks offended at the comment, turning to Dani with lowered eyebrows. "That's not nice, Dani. I can have sex with a man if I want to. Because…" He turns back to Gil and throws his arms around him, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. "Sex is amazing. And Gil is amazing!"

He raises his head and stares at Gil, expression changing into something more serious. He grabs both sides of Gil's head this time, forcing their gaze to stay locked on each other. In a voice as gentle as a lamb, Malcolm puts his entire heart into speaking.

"You're amazing."

They're two simple words, but the look in Malcolm's eyes amplifies the meaning. They hold so much affection and passion and pride, absolute love. Gil's restraint is being put to the test, a gruelling effort. It only becomes more difficult when Malcolm hugs him again, only this time, Gil is hyper-aware of the half-hardness pressing against his thigh.

He looks up to Dani and sighs, pushing down his dangerous thoughts and returning his focus to the more important situation. "We'll talk about this tomorrow," he says, ignoring the sweet nothings Malcolm mumbles into his ear. "You're not off the hook, Powell. I'm taking him home to make sure he comes down from his high."

Dani nods. "You've got it, Gil."

He turns his head towards the broken window, destroyed amidst the shooting. "Go help JT look for anything that could help us figure out who started the shooting. Message me with any leads."

"I'm on it." She is quick to head towards the scene, evidently remorseful for what happened to Malcolm, needing a way to atone.

Gil lets out a heavy breath, patting Malcolm on the back. "Okay, Bright. Come on, we're going home."

Malcolm pulls away quicker than lightning, his face lit up with childish joy. "Finally!" He smiles devilishly. "I have flavoured condoms."

"And we'll use them on a different day, once you've sobered up," Gil whispers, grabbing Malcolm's wrist and rushing him through the club. The night air is cool and crisp, a complete contrast to the warm, soiled air in the building. He helps Malcolm sit in the passenger seat before heading to the driver's side and starting his car.

~+~+~+~+~+~

When they arrive at Malcolm's apartment, the younger man practically marches through the door like he's on a mission, pulling his coat off with vigour. Gil, with a small sigh, closes the door as he follows him in.

"All right," Gil says, pulling off his jacket. He watches Malcolm discard his expensive article at the bottom of the staircase and gives a disapproving shake of his head. "The best thing you can do for the seven hours or so, just stay calm and drink lots of water."

Malcolm looks towards his living area and he perks up, inhaling with excitement as he takes off towards the coach. "Or!" He leaps up onto the back of his sofa, taking a moment to balance himself, and thrusts his hands out towards his collection of murder weapons. "We throw axes!"

Gil pauses, eyebrows shooting up as his eyes widen incredulously at Malcolm. "What?"

Malcolm turns to face Gil, pointing at him excitedly. "You and me. Broad bladed axes." He steps down onto the leather cushion of his couch, as if walking on a couch is a completely normal thing to do, and holds up a hand with his fingers splayed. "I have five!" He stops. "No, six… Doesn't matter, we have plenty."

Gil approaches the island and pours himself a glass of scotch. It's going to be a long night. "No," he says sternly.

He hears the sound of Malcolm shutting something and speaking, voice pitched and full of animation. "God, this feeling! My neurons are on fire!"

Gil takes a long sip from his drink, letting out a heavy exhale through his nose. For someone with poor self-care skills, sleeping and eating especially, Malcolm has a lot of energy. It's like the cocaine boosted the effects of his second wind. It reminds Gil of Dani years back when he would watch over her, drugged and falling. At the start, she was off the walls and full of childlike joy. But, as time passed and she became reliant on it, she was paranoid and terrified, either backing away from Gil with tears in her eyes or holding onto him like he was her saving grace. The memories only fuel his concerns for Malcolm after tonight; the thought of him in such a dark place, especially with the trauma he's experienced, makes Gil's chest tighten with anxiety.

When he looks up, Malcolm is heading his way on quick feet. He has that look in his eyes, the one from the club, the one that showed nothing but absolute love. "You know," Malcolm says, "people say that dopamine triggers pleasure. But really, it's about…"

He is suddenly in Gil's space, arms wrapped loosely around his neck and only an inch of space left between them. Gil doesn't want to encourage Malcolm's drug-induced lust, but still instinctively puts his hands on Malcolm's hips, pulling him closer.

"...Desire," Malcolm finally finishes. Gil's heart skips a beat at their proximity. The intent behind the word is obvious, and the sultry tone Malcolm entangles into his voice makes the temptation harder to resist. He's like a siren, singing out to Gil with his entire being. The song muddles his mind, clouding his judgment in fog and starving him, desperate for the taste of Malcolm.

Within seconds, Gil has Malcolm pushed up against the island and their lips are crashing together hard enough to leave bruises. It's passionate and messy and their hands wander across the familiar territory of each others' bodies. Gil runs his hand through Malcolm's hair and grips tightly, releasing a moan from the young man's mouth. It only increases volume when Gil bites down on Malcolm's lower lip, drawing it between his teeth. He grabs at his boyfriend's tie with impatience and practically rips it from his neck, moving to undo the waistcoat and the button-down shirt.

Gil lifts Malcolm onto the surface of the island and stands between his legs. The bare chest before Gil is free to be marked, previous love bites and hickeys having healed over the past few days. He takes Malcolm's skin into his mouth, sucking mercilessly along the collarbone. Malcolm props his hands upon the island behind him and throws his head back with a gasp. The noises he makes send blood rushing down Gil's body and strengthens the desire to hear more of those sexy sounds.

Gil licks his thumbs before dragging them along Malcolm's nipples, feeling the skin perk up underneath his touch. With a strong buck of the hips, the tip of Malcolm's restrained erection pokes Gil in his stomach.

Somehow, against all odds, that physical touch is enough to snap Gil back to himself, regaining his previous hyper-awareness to Malcolm's arousal; most importantly, to the cause of it. The events of the club make their way back to the front of Gil's brain and within moments, the two men are apart. Both are coated in sweat and panting like animals, and Malcolm's face is flushed a brilliant red.

"What's wrong?" he asks gently between breaths, sitting up and putting his hands worriedly on Gil's still-clothed arms.

Gil feels guilt flood his system and chastises himself. He let his wants overshadow his morality, so much so that he nearly had sex with his inebriated boyfriend. It would have been–it is sexual assault. Knowing Malcolm, he probably wouldn't be mad at Gil; the young man understands that he can be annoyingly persistent even when sober. However, that doesn't cut it because Gil would never be able to forgive himself for taking advantage of the best man he's ever come to know.

With laboured breaths, Gil finally says, "We can't do this, Bright."

Malcolm seems completely oblivious to the problem, furrowing his eyebrows with bewilderment. He pulls his hands away and Gil can see the self-consciousness making its way into Malcolm's head. "What happened? Did I do something?"

Gil sighs. He holds out his hand, helping Malcolm down from the counter. He then wraps his arms lovingly around him in a protective hug. "No, kid. You didn't do anything." He pulls away and takes Malcolm's head in his hands, forcing their eyes to lock. "But I can't have sex with you like this. You're not in your right mind."

"B-But…"

"Hey." Gil pushes some stray hair away from Malcolm's face. "If our situations were reversed, you'd say the same thing to me."

Malcolm appears to take a moment to think about that idea, blinking slowly like a machine that's processing information. For a split second, it makes Gil wonder if that was enough to get through to the kid or if his words were falling on deaf ears. Fear begins to creep into the back of his mind as he imagines Malcolm begging to continue, dripping with sex appeal, and Gil is too weak to turn him away. He's seen the pain Malcolm has been through, the betrayal he's been forced to endure. Gil can't become another one of the demons; he's supposed to be an angel.

He's brought back into the moment with a gentle kiss on the cheek. Arms wrap tightly around Gil's torso and Malcolm speaks to him with pure appreciation. "Aww, thank you!"

Gil's heart flutters with love and admiration. He brushes back Malcolm's bangs and plants a kiss on the kid's forehead. He wants to thank Malcolm for being so understanding, for recognizing just how heartbroken Gil would feel if they had made it further than they did. Gil wants to tell Malcolm that he is the most empathetic man Gil has ever met. He makes sadists have mercy, and for that, Gil loves Malcolm with every fibre of his being.

He says nothing, knowing that Malcolm wouldn't remember any of this. Instead, he returns the embrace and holds his boyfriend closer, thanking God for the favourable outcome to the situation.

#prodigal son #original post on archiveofourown #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #broyo #potentially triggering #drug use #noncon for about 2 paragraphs

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247krp · 8 years ago

Photo

— Rejoice, little lambs! We have recovered our own Park ‘Stella’ Seungmi, spotted prancing about in the Northwest Side. I remember seeing her with The Nobodies back in high school, but I’m not here to spill yesterday’s tea. So straight to the rundown: can you say secretive and overprotective? Apparently now she spends time as kitchen staff at Gosang Restaurant, and keeps skeletons buried at Bukdong Apartments, 303. But those won’t stay hidden for long, if you and I have any say on it. Welcome back, Little Star; we missed you so.

In case you don’t remember the devil’s name, here’s to refresh your memory:

Back then, Stella preferred being in the background. No attention. No fuss. Nothing. She liked it. Being a nobody was of no issue to her. She managed to stay on the down low throughout most years of high school. Although, that sort of changed when she became the girlfriend to the valedictorian and joined his clique. The Nobodies, as GG would call them. All of a sudden, people started to notice her more. Despite attempts to dismiss them, it was tough not to see others whispering and giving her side glances. No one knows her by name anymore. Now, she’s ‘XXX’s girlfriend’. Funny how they were supposed to be ‘nobodies’ and yet, she felt like she was always being watched or judged constantly. Stella disliked it. But nothing could have been worse than post-‘sex tape’ incident. It was as though she became a pornstar overnight. Six weeks later, the doctor confirmed her pregnancy. Now, that, really takes the cake. The ridicule, the judgmental looks, the hushed whisperings, haunting her wherever she went – was there any wonder why the girl turned into a recluse?

Nevermind the memory lane though, the present is always the ripest fruit:

Post Cheongnam High. Motherhood has somewhat changed her drastically. To be resilient, to be strong. But just like in the past, Stella would rather blend in with the background. Having an illegitimate child and being a single mother invites the judgement of others, they did not have to say it in her face, she could tell just by the looks they give her or the subtle subtext in their choice of words. It was still there. It still haunts her to this day. The ridicule, the judgmental looks, the hushed whisperings – she is used to it though. Cheongnam had trained her well. It hurts, yes, but the main point is she could ignore them, not let it affect her too much. Mind over matter. If she don’t mind them, they definitely don’t matter. The only thing is of utmost importance to Stella right now is Luna anyway.

But we are nothing if not open books – my job is to ensure you get to the best pages:

Twinkle, twinkle, little star.

This is it. After eight years of waiting, they finally get to meet her. Stella, which means ‘star’ in Latin, because she brightened up their dark skies. Literally and figuratively. Her birth was something they had anticipated for a long while after so much time and effort trying to conceive. They knew there would not be any more after her. The very first and very last, the only daughter of the Park family.

How I wonder what you are.

Growing up consisted of endless rules and regulations. Stella was under their strict supervision and if they were not around, the nanny took over their role. At times, the old woman felt sorry for the helpless child. Seeing how her childhood is wasted by their great expectations. Others voiced out their concerns. Maybe you’re being too hard on her. Let her play. She is just a child. But they insisted that their way is the best way. This is their star and they are going to protect her, no matter what. Little did they know, her light was burning out as she peered out of her bedroom window, yearning for a chance to play with the other kids at the playground.

Up above the world so high.

Cheongnam High. Her first taste of freedom. It was here where the star learnt how much she had been missing out. If she even had one, in the first place. It was here where she could let loose and just be. Be whoever she wanted to be. No instructions. No boundaries. She chose her own friends (albeit a small circle), not handpicked by her mother. She stayed out until late, using the excuse of ‘study groups’ or ‘extracurricular activities’ to get away with it. Going against the rules was so fun. This is life. And for once, Stella felt like she was on top of the world.

Like a diamond in the sky.

Every action has its consequences. She learnt this the hard way. Too caught up in her rebellious ways, too careless, too reckless, and she did not even realize it until the aftermath hits her. By then, it was too late. The sex tape of her and the boyfriend was unexpected but that was not the icing on the cake. It was the pregnancy that followed which caused her world to plummet into darkness.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star.

Her existence was supposed to serve as a painful reminder. When she gave out her first cry, Stella cried too. She was so innocent and pure. It would be unfair to pin such unpleasant memories on this child. Meeting her newborn switched those bitter feelings she held on for nine months. There was nothing but love now. She named her Luna. The moon, the one that reflects the sun and guides the lost ones during dark nights.

How I wonder what you are.

The past few years saw more growth in Stella, more than what her parents witnessed when she was growing up to a young adult. Being forced into motherhood, the death of a loved one, and other incidents that she would rather not remember, she survived them. It was then that Stella knew stars need dark moments to truly shine.

#247: accepted

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thetoolswetook · 6 years ago

Text

14/5/19

Closed curtains Cold clothes and Old routines I’ve been dancing in your traffic God And The Machine The greatest mistake of my life Was saying goodbye To you I’m cheating on myself with you I’ll be fine Acting like I’m fine All the fucking time I hate myself for thinking the things I never say But ——— it never feels the same Just paint those scars and forget it ever happened If only to make my ghost a martyr A Box Full I spent all my life Learning my lines Only to find I’m stuck with stage fright Heights of heaven / Depths of hell I had a dream that was a different life, Everything else was different But you and I the same Overthinking Day drinking Drugs Or Love Are you going to walk slow for the whole of your life? Burned to death looking for your shade I’ve been Lying Down and Crying All alone Salt drips down my ear lobe How is it fair That I must travel this life Without your infinite light And guidance? If I die to the road I just want you to know I choked on what I loved That’s more than enough

You make me tremble like a loaded gun You make me shiver in the summer sun

Heaven, honey, home

I’m so scared of dying With so much left unsaid

Learning how to fly Try to touch the Sky Always felt so fine Until you got blinded by the light

Icarus

You walked in and damned me Because now I can’t live without you Now I’m just roadkill on your stretch to something better

You give me forever And it scares me to death ---- Passive passion

I’m not who you want

I’m not who you need

Exhausted, by it all

Being on this earth made your soul fragile - I hope you made it out

Bone Music

Lilly white

And if I have to break my heart, to share it with you, I will

When you cross my mind, I beam with pride

Her/Hurt

I bite a chunk of skin off my bottom lip,

For every word I never said, but wished I did

I only often speak about death,

Because I love my family and my friends,

And I’m scared of their lives coming to an end.

So I guess it’s just my way of not being able to forget.

A pedestal to you is a gallows to I.

You’ve given up on yourself

Teach me how to love,

Or fill me up,

With lots of drugs,

Till I am stuffed.

Hopefully that will be enough.

Every time I sing you to sleep,

My troubles subtlely dilate.

You think it’s beautiful, more or less,

But between the cracks in my voice, I’m crying for help.

Though I’m exhausted, I try not to sleep through the days,

Because I hate the thought of you seeing the look on my face, when I’m dreaming of a better place,

And painfully, miserably, I must awake.

I have spent years of my life, feeling guilty,

For being ill behind this white picket fence

But everybody bleeds differently, I’ll use that as my defence.

Whether a disease is noticeably killing you on the outside,

Or it’s just a minor fault of the chemicals inside your mind.

That’s fine. The degree of your suffering is something I cannot define. Still, I hope you’ll heal in time.

I find it hard to shoulder burdens far less heavy than some, and sit awake at night telling them “It’s okay to be numb”, when maybe in your shoes I would simply just crumble - But in the eyes of our issues it’s so important to stay humble.

No matter who you are - Where you are or what you do. We’re similarly different... That much is true.

Our key similarity also holds us apart: The dull numb ache of our beating hearts.

So, now you know; You’re never alone. And in that knowledge, I hope you find hope.

Acid test

Like Home

Hide your ghost in my shadow

Mourning Song

You were there when I was alone, I just need to let you know, every word that I had said I had truly meant. I hope you know

And now I’m as alone, as I’ve always felt

If I could look into your eyes for the rest of my life, or walk the whole entire world with your hand in mine, I would never be ready die.

How I wish I was someone else. Someone far away. -

------

Endure the throes of yesterday

Just to maintain the throne you own today

How am I to know what I have thrown away?

A victory lap, or a funeral parade?

When I fell from the apex of it all

I promised myself

Now I’m sailing on the seas that I used to drown in

Oh what a burden it is

To be blessed with a beating heart

And bludgeoned with a purpose

You are the middle of the compass

But I have to fade away

To find myself again another day

Lured like a sailor to a siren

Man Of Sorrows

Arma Christi

I’ve been watching the binding crack

And the veins pop out your neck

Open the door to find there’s nothing left

Filthy as lard - Guilty as charged

Rain sodden, down trodden - so so sick of the rain

So so sick of the rain

On my parade

Strength in solitude

Wherever you go when you are dead,

I hope it’s somewhere that we can meet again

Tears Of A Clown

How can I find you help

When I can’t even find myself?

A little white cross

A little blue dot

I’ve started stepping on the cracks

What happens when we fall out of love?

I really want to live

To see the look on your face

When it all falls in place

Nuclear Family

B U T T E R F L I E S

Airborne Pheromones

Sweetheart Grip

God’s Eye

As it’s reflection bounces off your face

The end of the world’s such a pretty place

-----------

Let me live forever with you

Lonely Lamb

Married to the way

You bury every day

Ophelia

It pumps in my rib cage

Cold metal

Pressed against my temple

Will I ever find peace

With myself

And the pieces of myself

That I left

Behind

All the happy fat people

Are watching me starve

Our Greatest Glory

We are defined not by how we fall, and who pushes us, but the way we wipe the dirt from our knees and plant the earth back beneath our feet

I’ll never let you know

But it Helped Me Out Of A Hole

I’m ashamed to feel it, but not to talk about it

The last time was cathartic, my friend. I only came back here to give my life meaning again

Let this be my Funeral Portrait (hidden mother)

An empty stomach

A plethora of food

A mouth wide open

No teeth to chew.

We all make mistakes - Don’t let your mistakes make you.

Every laborious lesson learned, I bare to you.

My friend is ill. Where do I begin?

As much as I love to help, I’m sorry that I have to.

Running from my life

For my life

Spite-filled and bitter

Curse me with your

Kiss

We cherished what the sun said

Perished with the sun set

Greek Tragedy

The Inbetween

Colour-Starved

Light of my life - How I miss you so

Melatonin

In between dreams

I Am An Island

I lie in bed at night

And dream of a better life

With my eyes wide open

Every magpie

Must take flight

Nothing left to live for

Nothing left to lose

What’s the time in Texas?

I wrote you this message

I know it’s hard to find the time at the end of every day,

Half the world away

Dear Calamity

When I grow up I want to be something to someone

Making peace with my devils

When I breathe my life down the back of your neck,

What happens next?

No Joy

Morfydd

Two nuns in love

Cognitive Dissonance

Phantom Limb

I sometimes wonder - Am I in your nightmares, or do I just wake you from them?

What once was a burden, is now a blessing

Because forgiving

Is not forgetting

The love that we once willed

The love that we watched wilt

-----

It’s always been a long plight for happiness, or fulfilment. Not sure which one. You have a long time on this earth and the best way is to take things step by step. Assess your surroundings, and move on to the next healthy step. Over time, you soon learn that the constant yearning for more is both healthy and frightening. Of course, it sees you often climbing above those around you, but when do you discover the ladder comes to an end? When the last step suddenly becomes a leap of faith?

So, do we sit on the ground, smug with the knowledge that we’re never going to fall? The gluttony of comfortable complacency? Or is that adrenaline rush we feel as we climb to the top maybe worth the time we spend in limbo, falling back down? The question really is, do we feel the risk of failure is worth the sense of fulfilment? And once you’ve turned that corner, you face the really ugly problem at hand.

Fulfilment is NOT happiness. Your ivory tower is hollow. Your money and your attention can buy you nothing. Was the journey even worth it? Do we climb this ladder through the clouds to see a wasteland? Do we then yearn for that cold, hard ground we once lay upon?

There are more questions you must ask yourself. Would I have spent a lifetime of comfort sat wondering what could have been? And whether this self-sabotage in the name of overthinking was worth it? Or will I spend a lifetime of regret, free-falling from a great height with remorse in my heart, but proud callouses on my hands? And the final question you must ask is - In the long run - Which poisonous decision will be less painful?

-----

It found me when I was young

It sits in the crease of my lung

It keeps me awake with its incessant hum and

It da da da da da

---

Funeral Portraits

Pagliacci

Helped Me Out Of A Hole

Ophelia

Lonely Lamb

In Retrograde

Take Care

Our Greatest Glory

Paradise Lost

In A Birdcage

Blood In The Snow

Pandora

No Teeth

Without Wax (Open Letter)

Burning Bush

Beyond Belief

All.ways

-----

Every laborious lesson learned, I bare to you.

So, I write this letter to you, and everyone else in fact, My hurting heart, without wax. I’ll be the black cloud looking down

Out of your depth

In over your head

The rhythm of life, ebbs and flows

Nobody knows

Another begrudged,

Lap of the sun

It’s the death and the birth. For better or worse.

Sick and tired. Sick of crying.

The side of the bed where you once slept is cold as hell

I am not defined by the illness in my mind

Still got my heart in a birdcage

Those days

Maybe weeks

Maybe months

Made me weak

Give up on me

Like everybody else

Even myself

In your eyes I saw it die. Like it or not - Paradise Lost

And now my body shudders every time I hear your name. I know not of a love like ours; We’re chained.

Was it a magnetic field, or gravity, that brought you back to me?

When you walked in the room, how was I to know,

That we were sat together, like blood in the snow?

Every angels wing is clipped and bent - The devil made me deaf

If I could look into your eyes for the rest of my life, or walk the whole entire world with your hand in mine, I would never be ready die.

Live and die in black and white

Just so you know,

I swallowed every single bow,

That tied me to you

I’m doomed. A pulse-less moon.

Floating to and from, the maelstrom of,

You. A limp harpoon.

Floating from and to, my sibling moon. Begging for guidance.

Leave your dreams alone

“A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.”

Pandora

Pagliacci

It’s fine

To sit and cry

Every night

If that’s what you want

Please just be my friend

I haven’t got much else

--------

It really broke my heart when I read you say

“It’s better to burn out than to fade away”.

As much as I respect you, I could never take your advice;

Though I resent it - I cherish my life.

----------

In Glorious Memory Of The Love I Lost

On the outside we’re fine,

We’re just two miserable magpies.

I remember the crack in your voice when you said “I’m leaving”. Just another person that left me behind

This Dream Of Mine (Dramamine?)

I remember it all. The rise. The fall.

I remember it all. The climb. The crawl.

I remember the ————

It’s the death and the birth. For better or worse.

Sick and tired. Sick of crying.

I think I’ve lost my mind. Where has it gone?

I’ve been missing things for so long

I thought you were a magpie, turns out you are a crow. One for sorrow, two for joy. Now I’m all alone.

The Last Letter

To the moment I sleep, from the second I wake, I dwell on my mistakes

But you always cared

I’ve stared at these paper walls for so long

You don’t want to make me well. You just want to know what makes me sick.

Mourning Song / Celebration Song

The side of the bed where you once slept is cold as hell

I am not defined by the illness in my mind

I lie awake at night thinking of all the days I’ve wasted

Still got my heart in a birdcage

Those days

Maybe weeks

Maybe months

Made me weak

All of the pain that we harbour

I wish we were kids in the garden

Not just skeletal targets

Spill my guts

So sick of love

So sick of

I’m

All out of rhyme

All out of rhythm

All out of time

------------- An open letter of sorts - My musings and thoughts.

I pressed your flowers in to my book, so when I miss you I know just where to look.

Whenever I see the tapestry your blessed hands have wove for me - The poetry, the misery, it all meant so so much to me.

Just give me a lobotomy, and cure these things inside of me so maybe I can then be free, to love you for eternity.

But

The side of the bed where you once slept,

Is cold as hell.

The side of the bed where you once slept,

It’s empty now.

I tried to hold your hands, but they were always pushing me,

Towards my hopes and dreams.

If, in another life,

My heart is beating fine,

And love is on my mind,

You’ll be the first in line.

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