// amethyst //
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"I can feel myself slowly fading from your mind."
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when I see the place I can't help but gape in awe. record stores are the best places to go just to escape from the world for a little bit or just to be happy- record stores will sure do the job.
Michael waves to the boy at the counter with a smile, he's got to be our age. he has black, curly hair and tan skin, basically any girls dream guy.
"let's look around." Michael drags me across the room, to all of the vinyls lined up against the wall.
I sigh in happiness, "this is amazing."
my eyes line every single record placed into that wall until one in particular is seen. it's Sleeping With Sirens' If You Were A Movie, This Would Be Your Soundtrack. one of my all time favorites.
I gasp at the sight of it, trying my hardest to reach it on my tip toes, but I don't succeed.
"need a little help there?" I peer behind me to see Michael with a smile on his face, offering to help.
"yeah." I reply nervously, hopping down from the shelf.
he takes my place on the shelf, scanning over the few records.
"sleeping with sirens? I didn't know you were into screamo." he teases, handing me the vinyl in his hands.
"they aren't all screamo." I tease him back, nudging his elbow. "some are really good."
"some." he said, spinning a copy of Green Day's American Idiot in his hands. "this is all good music."
"shut up, Clifford." I roll my eyes at him, him just smirking in return.
"c'mon." he leads me to an unknown place, where it's very dark, and smells of rusty metal.
"are you kidnapping me?"
"yes, amethyst, I'm making you take a vinyl while you get kidnapped." he said sarcastically.
"sorry." I snap at him before a door is opened, us walking onto the roof of what must be the record shop.
"surprise." he says, turning to face me with the city lights glimmering in the background. a perfect picture.
"what's all this?" I ask him in shock, eying this place from head to toe.
"this is just the beginning." he tells me, inching closer until he takes the vinyl from my hand. my eyes follow him as he walks to a record player, somehow on a roof.
"what're we doing?"
"we," he says, the intro of Roger Rabbit- my all time favorite, playing, "are going to dance."
"are you serious?" I smile at him and his cheesiness. he reaches his left hand out for me to take and I give in, wrapping my arms around his neck as the song plays.
"is there a right way for how this goes?
you've got your friends
and you've got your foes
they want a piece of something hot
forget your name like they forgot
oh, ain't that something?
some wanna see you crash and burn
and criticize your every word
I'm trying to keep from going insane
ain't that the way of this whole dam thing"
"okay, I admit," Michael speaks, his hands wrapped around my waist securely, "they aren't so bad."
"you never judge a book by its cover." I stare into his eyes with the song still playing. his eyes flicker to my lips, and I know he's trying so hard not to kiss me. my temptation to kiss him has been so evident ever since he wrapped his arms around me.
