𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚝 // 𝑀𝐻

twenty

now playing

"Peach Pit"
-Peach Pit

June 15th, 2006
6:21am

      The window by you, was opened. Welcoming the summer breeze, fresh and joyful. Basking the vicinity with a calm atmosphere, soothing your thoughts and erupting emotions. Extinguishing your anger and taming your unruly and over-grown sadness.

       The smell of the early morning rain pours into the room, along with the gentle sound of rain drops tapping the roof. Your lungs no longer choked with spite, tears now dry and your head clear of any dark thoughts. No longer vexed, you drifted off slowly into the lovely lullabies of the whirring fan.

Your head moved slightly against the soft surface—yourself being lulled by the rise and fall of it. The radiating warmth of something placed against your back comforted you, your mind half awake.

      The movement of the body you half-lay on woke you from your limbo state, eyes now open as you gaze up at the sleeping man underneath you. Brian's hand moved slightly against your back as he twitched in his sleep, a slightly uncomfortable expression on his face as he presumably dreamt.

      You decided it was best to let him sleep, resting your head back on his chest. You're unsure how you even got into this position, slightly remembering consuming alcohol the night prior. Your eyes scanned your view of the living room, almost cackling as you noticed Tim sprawled out on the coffee table.

You wondered how shitfaced you all got last night, though the bottles of various types of alcohol laying on the floor semi-answered your questions. You sighed before sitting up, slowly getting up off of the sandy-haired male.

You've obviously had an attraction to him since the first day you met all those years ago, and it never left once. You can't decide if it's a blessing or a curse.

You notice Tim turning over, though you carefully slide off the couch in time to slightly push him back before he fell to the floor. You grab a pillow from an armchair, placing it under his head before throwing a blanket over his clothed body.

   You carefully make sure he's laying on his side before doing the same for Brian. It's the best thing you can do for someone who's been drinking—so they don't choke on their own vomit in their sleep.

      You assume Alex had already left, not being able to recall if he had participated in your drinking session or not. Your head pounded as the hangover began to kick in. You groaned as it absolutely bodied you, your hands clutching your stomach.

    You sat back on the couch, eyes closing as you leaned back into the pillows.

November 23rd, 2010
12:31pm

    It had not even been three hours—or so it seemed. It was as if time ticked slower than usual whenever you were here; the drawn out litany of the telephone ring and the muttering of voices from the hallways gradually dimming down, lower and lower until it faded out as if it'd never been there at all.

The clocks might have been tampered with, you thought, because you know you must have been here for days, maybe, weeks. But the clock is taunting, its hands pointing just two inches—one and half, maybe, precisely—from where it'd seemed to have been an hour ago.

You strummed the guitar, playing a few chord progressions you had memorized. Your hands stopped for a moment, hovering over the strings as the gears turned in your head.

A G chord emitted from the instrument as you strummed, your three fingers down on the proper strings to create the chord. You stopped for a split second before switching to a Cadd9 chord, the familiar progression sparking a bittersweet feeling in you.

Your fingers made their way down to the G, B, and high E strings for a D chord—but nevertheless, you set the instrument down before playing it. The familiar tune being that of one you didn't quite think you could handle listening to right now.

A phone wasn't in sight, to your disparity. You seriously considered using the hotel front desk phone to call Jay to see when he would come back—if he comes back.

The TV played out a cartoon—SpongeBob to be exact. You grabbed the remote, turning the volume up by a few before tuning back into the moving pictures. The yellow sponge stood in front of his grill, the usual joke of his squid counterpart being irritated at him playing out.

You nearly snorted—the connection between Squidward and Alex snapping together in your head in a childish manner. Your mouth returns to a pursed straight line as your thoughts continued. Though, Squidward wasn't a paranoid man that filmed himself every second of the day.

Out of curiosity, your eyes made their way around the room, deciding to look for that familiar red blinking light just to soothe your slightly anxious mind.

Your heart felt like it dropped as you noticed it.

The bright red light.

The blink, blink, blinking of the device that had captured your every movement for hours. Your anxiety calmed after it registered that perhaps Jay put it there to help the both of you remember.

   Your gripped your head, the mere thought of trying to remember anything from the past few months hurting your mind already. You desperately tried to remember something—anything.

Nothing.