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"Seventeen" -Peach Pit
September 30th, 2002 7:15am
Soft light bathes warm blankets crumpled into a cocoon headed by fluffy pillows. It dances across floorboards so there are cold and warm patches in gradients. It seeps into bones and caresses sleepy eyes when they flutter open. It wraps around the fluffy bathrobe in a warm embrace.
It sings through windows, and bedazzles the outside world, making gems of dewy leaves and a beautiful fire of the sky. Filtered through blinds it softens corners and limits the spectrum to muted tones deviating only a little from grey.
Unblocked, it bounces around and sifts in rays. It catches the steam from the tea and sounds like the sizzle of pancakes and the first clanking of pots and pans. It tastes like bacon and orange juice. It smells like French toast and bananas. It feels like soft, warm hugs and holding a mug of hot tea and breathing in the steam.
This light is Sunday light, too happy for a weekday, too soft for a Saturday. This light licks brunch and spreads gentle fingers over filling chapels.
Your chest rose and fell in a soft rhythm, eyes shut as a presence sat gently next to you. Your conscience began to wake, eyes following not much longer.
Yellowish-orange light poured into the room, layering you and Brian—both of you sprawled out on the floor. Your head rested on his chest, his jacket covering you.
You slowly lifted yourself up, looking at Brian—his sleeping state peaceful. You smiled at the sight of him, warmth rushing through you.
You soon had two blue eyes staring right back at you. You nearly laughed as his gentle grin formed. "Mornin', Sunshine."
"Morning, bedhead." You ruffled the mop of hair on his head, strands spraying out in every direction. "Oh, hush." He sat up, not even attempting to fix his hair.
"Here, let me fix it." You crawled to him, borderline sitting in his lap. His eyes never left you, them staring at you with an almost curious expression as you worked.
His eyes were piercing: it was the sharp transition of the smear of bright blue-ish chartreuse into a deep shade of forest evergreen. When he shifted, the light of the room seemed to change it into almost a silver-yellow, and then disappeared as he blinked.
His hands grasped your wrists, keeping your hands still as he looked at you. The tension between you both only grew as you looked back at him.
Your attention soon turned to what could he heard as the window on your balcony being unlatched.
December 21st, 2009 5:32pm
You never told Jay what happened. You didn't want to freak him out over something that could've just been your record player acting up.
"What'd you find?" You asked, biting into the takeout that Jay had brought back.
"Found a tape." He said simply, eating his own food as he pulled it out of his pocket and set it on the coffee table.
"Do you know what it has on it?"
"I can show you after we eat." He bites into his food. "It's mainly just Alex.. I'm positive he killed Seth, or at least gave him up as a sorts of.. I don't know—like a sacrifice?"
Your eyes widened, eyebrows furrowed. "What?" Jay shrugged. "The tapes show it all."
"What the hell.." You muttered, eyes glancing back to the kitchen, your record player sitting where you last left it on the kitchen island.
"Hey, Jay?" Your voice rang out, eyes still set on the record player. "Yeah?"
"Did you ever mess with the record player?"
"No? Why?" He asked, continuing to eat.
"No reason." You turned back and began to eat your food once more.
