Following my last one shot, here's the aesthetic I'll be using for this story:
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I love how many meanings you can make with the color red. There's so many more options and opportunities to make something beautiful with red. I love it.
Quick note: the setting for this one is a small, poor-ish town. It's not really abandoned or the ghetto, but it's more of an old, sleepy town where old people have resided all their life and low income families go for an affordable house, y'know? So you're both...kind of poor. Not dirt poor, and you don't life in a trailer park (not that there's anything wrong with that) or a sloppy house, but it is small and a little run down. IDK.
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Aesthetic Prompt #2- Bad Boy Mark [High School Prom AU]
You grinned as you gently shut your window, moving slowly so you wouldn't fall. It had just finished raining, and your roof was slick. Turning carefully, you took baby steps towards the tree branch that basically lined your house. Mark stood on the branch, reaching out to you with one hand and anchoring himself to the tree trunk with the other. You grabbed it and hopped on the branch, gasping slightly as it shook under you.
Quickly, you climbed down the tree and crouched to the ground, your breath hitching when you saw the kitchen light was still on. "Shit," you muttered as Mark jumped to the ground behind you. He didn't bother to hide; instead, he sauntered casually past the window. You decided to play it safe and go your usual way out, through a hole in the planks of your wooden fence.
When you jumped through the last set of other people's houses, Mark was waiting for you, leaning against a gas station wall and whistling absently. His bright red hair seemed to glow in the dark, and his muscles seemed a little bigger in his one-size-too-small shirt.
You stood beside him, trying to brush the dirt off of your clothes. You were one of the lucky lower class people in town- your black jeans were one size too big and could only be kept up with the rope you knotted around your waist. Your red tank top was a bit snug, but luckily, your shoes fit just fine. Boot blisters were the worst.
Mark watched you adjust yourself, then plucked a rose petal from your hair and presented it to you. Jokingly, you teared up, taking the petal gingerly and admiring how soft it was. "The usual spot?" You asked, looking up at him.
"The usual spot," He agreed, leading the way in a brisk stride. You struggled to keep up, panting slightly as you passed the country club. Music was floating through the air, playing Cotton Eyes Joe loudly. The shouts of your classmates could faintly be heard over the melody, and you rolled your eyes.
The two of you continued to walk to the outskirts of town, finally stopping at an old ranch. The house and barn were both worn and crumbling, but the gate was miraculously intact. However, it was only a few logs and two strips of barbed wire. Mark climbed up first, jumping over the barbed wire easily and fussing when his shoe snagged momentarily. Almost instinctively, you rubbed the scar on your knee from your first jump.
