Pink Floyd Preferences+Imagines

Rick Wright #1

Hello! I hope you've all had a good holiday season. I've been writing this for a very long time. It isn't all that great but it took me forever. I think the end is a bit rushed but I really wanted to finally post this. Anyways I hope you enjoy it. As always my requests are open <3

The quilt was draped unceremoniously over you, tangled in your legs and hardly covering your chest, and your clothes from the previous night hung awkwardly from your body. Your once freshly ironed slacks now had deep messy wrinkles in them. Your makeup was clotted and smeared on your tired face and your hair was matted against the nape of your neck. Your heels were carelessly kicked beside the bed and your bra was thrown over the chair in the corner along with your coat. Pure white sunlight streamed in through the crack in the curtains and the chipper sound of bird songs filled the air. The radiator hummed along steadily and through the thin floral-paper covered walls you could hear the desperate hungry wails of your neighbor's baby. You had never related to a newborn better in your life. You also had a deep desire to wail and howl. The real difference was that no one would come to check on you and see what was wrong. You were alone in your little box, the doors closed tight and barred off from the rest of the world.

Slowly you managed to rise, urging yourself to ignore the pounding headache as you pulled open the curtains. The sunny day forced you to squint as you examined the quiet street. The sun was high in a pure blue sky striped with running white cirrus clouds. A pair of boys rode their bikes down the cracked pavement and a young girl accompanied by her mother skipped down the sidewalk pointing up at colorful birdies hiding among the ripe green leaves of tall oak trees. You'd have liked it if it was grey, gloomy, and wet out.

"It's too nice of a day to be miserable," you whispered to no one. You thought maybe saying it aloud would make you believe it; it didn't. Turning to the nightstand you checked the time, only nine o'clock, not too bad for a Saturday morning. As you glanced over the mess that had become of your room your eyes paused on the photograph sitting atop your dresser in a golden frame decorated with flowers. You and Rick sitting together at a holiday party. His arm thrown over your shoulders and his lips pressed to your temple as you sat smiling wide as possible. His hand sat protectively on your knee and you were leaned into him happily. The photo immediately caused something angry and sad to rise up inside of you so you stomped across the room to turn the picture face down. You weren't yet ready to confront any of these nagging emotions awaiting you.

You couldn't bear the state of your bedroom any longer so you forced yourself to begin to pick up. Clothes that had been left here and there finally made their way into the hamper. The dust of makeup that had covered your vanity for weeks was finally wiped off and the red lipstick kissed tissues were put in the waste bin. Your bed was made for the first time that month and you even managed to vacuum your rug.

Even with a clean room before you there was still a sad emptiness deep inside you hiding somewhere between your appendix and intestine digging itself a hole to wallow in. Drinking the night before hadn't expelled it and you'd promised yourself sleep would, but here you stood with this same lurking shadow of discomfort.

The prospect of a shower made you feel a bit better so you trudged into your bathroom abandoning your clothing on the way and shoving them into the hamper. You turned the water until it was almost scalding and then you just stood there and let it wash everything away. You couldn't get yourself to actually begin washing. Eventually you sat on the floor, the water beating down on you as you leaned back against the cool tile, breathing in steamy hot air. Somehow he wandered into your mind and you couldn't help but cry. Wails that you usually would swallow escaped your lips and your whole body shook violently. You didn't even bother to fight any of it. It was time to let it out. The precarious tower of cards that you had been building finally collapsed in a dramatic display of explosion.