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𝘐𝘥𝘪𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥 ☟︎ 𝘽𝙤𝙗 𝘿𝙮𝙡𝙖𝙣
｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆
all her life she had been greeted by backs. all of them faced her. but she never faced a real face. no complexion ever looked at her, nor studied her the way most people do.
her body became a victim not only of roger's thrown away needs, but of the chilling wind. it wasn't a breeze but rather a curse, whistling tunes of somber truth all around her. but she didn't want to hear any of that. she didn't want the tears that dried on her blood filled cheeks to become submissive to more truth. she wanted to be lied to. she wanted to be told everything was okay and that roger was just in a mood, or that jimmy did in fact care about her and would probably visit her tonight.
that's what she wished for in the moment of processing her thoughts. her thoughts though, were a scrambled mess. more disorganized than her room back home. more disorganized than her relationships she was entangling herself in. more disorganized than her choice of clothing.
her nails dug into her skin. the pads of her fingers silently reminisced the feeling of the untamed front man digging his fingernails into her hips as he fulfilled only his needs. not the woman he was flustering. her chest compressed as her grasp on herself tightened for the fulfillment of her need for security.
her mind dreamed wistfully that his hands were in the spot of hers, clutching onto her own arms. they weren't as coarse, nor were they as callused, but those holes were filled by the limiting power of dejection. rejection possibly as well.
she had lost her ways. and not just in judgement. in literal direction. her mind had been toggling, focused on the recent events that were soon to ruin her, completely, that she didn't know where she was. the wind simply took her, led her to nowhere near the hotel.
scattered, her eyes were. dancing recklessly off of each building as her heart accelerated its beats. the blood stream in her body sped up, not not flowing smoothly as it did just a mere two minutes ago.
the red stains on her lips suddenly weren't so rogue, but now a hue of gradient sky blues that only seemed to darken as they froze gradually. she licked her lips constantly, her eyes scanning through the area whilst her legs continued her journey to the hotel.
the only reason she didn't stop was an odd one- to her at least; she trusted her gut. she hadn't done so her whole life, new life, old life, point is she never had. her conscious spoke her to about leaving roger, yet the man controlled her even when he wasn't in her line of sight. her gut warned her about drugs, yet she still participated in them. and even if she ended up with experiences that tarnished her freedom, parts of her still longed to entangle herself once again in that looked down upon lifestyle that only seemed appropriate for people whom made an impact.
like roger, jimmy, other roger, robert, the list could go on in her mind. and she knew she wasn't one of those people. her collection of fifty's styled rings and run down necklaces didn't imprint her legacy on any history books or some stranger's mind.
further beyond her path, a gleaming light, of a lamppost, found her. her eyes were tainted in the image of the hotel, and the luxurious that complemented it. her feet no longer ached, and the wind seemed to guide her.
it blew in her face so recklessly to the point it almost felt right. her cheeks were chilled once more by the appalling breeze that darted past her. in a childlike sense, her arms rose beside her, floating in the air. she touched trees, their bark. she felt connected to something as she ran and best part was she didn't need a stimulant to feel this way.
