Glass.
1/1
The way the light shines over her face, it’s hardly fair. When the colors of refracting stain-glass spill over her cheeks, his ribcage compresses until his heart catches in his throat. The pinks, purples, reds, yellows, blues, and greens lay still across every part of her, as if they could suck her away. He sees them more as protectors, though, keepers of this moment. She turns her head so her thick locks of brown and gold hair move and are replaced with her face. And in that moment, a swarm of butterflies burst through the walls of his soul and flood him entirely. But he would blame that on the drugs for now.
“What are we going to do tonight?” She rasps out.
“I don’t know, probably a party,” he says as he looks down at the ugly pink carpet and picks at his shoes.
“Want another hit?” She asks.
He shrugs a little and takes the lit joint from her bony fingers.
“We never had a chance.”
“Huh?”
“We never had a chance,” he repeats, “At life, I mean. Nobody does. We’re only ever tearing each other apart. We’re born to die. Cast into darkness from the first fucking minute. It’s like racing on a stationary bike. Pointless, fucking pointless.”
He lets out a large breath of smoke and watches it dance into the sunlit rafters of the tainted church.
“Well, what do you want, a fucking lollipop? Life’s not fair. Just enjoy what you can while you can.”
She moves to stare up at the sun through the stain glass window and the light reflections dance across her skin. He watches her pale blue-green eyes dilate and close. He wants to touch her, run his hand up and down the curves of her body, kiss her until both of them are out of breath. His heart explodes like fireworks at the thought as his hands sweat. His chest rises up and down a bit faster than usual. He wants to scream out his innermost desires, make his feeling known. But life isn’t fair, just like she said, and he ought to enjoy the small slivers of happiness he may find. So, instead, he nuzzles his head in her hair, closes his eyes, and let their heartbeats melt everything away.
“What are we going to do tonight?” She rasps out.
“I don’t know, probably a party,” he says as he looks down at the ugly pink carpet and picks at his shoes.
“Want another hit?” She asks.
He shrugs a little and takes the lit joint from her bony fingers.
“We never had a chance.”
“Huh?”
“We never had a chance,” he repeats, “At life, I mean. Nobody does. We’re only ever tearing each other apart. We’re born to die. Cast into darkness from the first fucking minute. It’s like racing on a stationary bike. Pointless, fucking pointless.”
He lets out a large breath of smoke and watches it dance into the sunlit rafters of the tainted church.
“Well, what do you want, a fucking lollipop? Life’s not fair. Just enjoy what you can while you can.”
She moves to stare up at the sun through the stain glass window and the light reflections dance across her skin. He watches her pale blue-green eyes dilate and close. He wants to touch her, run his hand up and down the curves of her body, kiss her until both of them are out of breath. His heart explodes like fireworks at the thought as his hands sweat. His chest rises up and down a bit faster than usual. He wants to scream out his innermost desires, make his feeling known. But life isn’t fair, just like she said, and he ought to enjoy the small slivers of happiness he may find. So, instead, he nuzzles his head in her hair, closes his eyes, and let their heartbeats melt everything away.