A/N: So I was torn between the last song and this one, and since writing day three took forever due to my inability to make a decision, I had time to write two stories! So part two, day four, onward! ps. somewhat long, I'm sorry!
Day III) (A song that reminds you of something sad)
"Sylvia" by: Miike Snow-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
/Reach the city steps tonight
Following the power lines/
I loved the reckless current of emotions that it gave me. I craved the euphoric rush, the wash over sensation of pure undiluted high, the indestructible power that coursed through my veins when I injected it. It wasn't something that I merely wanted anymore.
I needed it.
My skin crawled with the need for it. My body ached for it. Ached without it.
I crushed her lips against mine, tasting the hotness of her mouth and the smoky remnants of her Marlboro.
God she tasted good.
But the kiss didn't quench the need inside me.
"Ready, baby?" I asked her as I handed her the syringe.
Her eyes glowed in the darkness as she smirked through her hollowed cheeks and nodded. I watched as she extended her arm and searched for the purple-blue array of lines amidst the pale, almost translucent flesh. With ease she slid the syringe tip deep into the blue vein beneath her skin and smiled as it started to hit her. She handed the syringe to me and I in turn quickly followed her example, desperate to feel it.
And there it was.
The beginning effects of it.
And now all we had to do was wait. Wait for it to surge up our veins through our bloodstream and free us. Wait for it to make us high enough to lose ourselves in it.
High enough to see skyscraper rooftops.
/Met a man barside
With eclipses for eyes/
It stayed with us for a while. It made me feel like it always did. That feeling of infinite better. It made her feel better too. Not like the first time I used it. Never like the first time... But good none the less. Better than good...
Still, the part of me that ached when I was without it, always ached too, for the feeling of the first time again. Like a dull, itching, pain constantly inside me that could at times be slightly satiated when I had it, and at other times become a raging, spit fire of overwhelming desire and need that burned and charred all it touched when I didn't.
Right now the feeling was at the tolerable itching stage.
It had stayed with us for a while. But now its effects were starting to fade and the ache inside me was growing, telling me I needed more. She looked at me and I could see the craving for more within her glossy eyes as well. We left the street and headed for the house, in search. It wasn't my house or hers for that matter, but it didn't matter. At the house we would find what we were looking for.
We always did.
But this time we didn't make it there.
Instead we found something better on the way.
YOU ARE READING
Finding the Tempo
Teen FictionLove and romance, friendship that knows no bounds, laughter and life, as well as the sadness of death... This book is about finding a deeper meaning in music and learning to understand different scenarios and points of view that you wouldn't have or...
