A Book Of Bullshit I Make Instead Of Sleeping Oops

Dark Really Really Really Hates Coffee And Then He Gets Fucked By Starmine

"Write about a hammock, a tiny apartment, a coffee cup, and a bunch of flowers."  

飲めもしないコーヒー飲め干して

[I drink coffee even though I can't stand to drink it]

D A R K

but yeah this started as one thing and ended as a lemon oops

Dark moodily stormed through the door of his cramped apartment, flinging his keys to the ground. He heard them clang against the wall, but he could give less fucks about it.

Green eyes blazing, he jammed the plug of the rickety old coffee maker into the outlet, setting the pot to ready the disgusting liquid. He had a pounding headache as if bombs were exploding against the inside of his skull and his fingers curled around the edge of the counter as he bit back an agitated growl.

Once the coffee maker was finally done, he carelessly poured the bitter substance into his paper coffee cup, one he'd been reusing for days. The hot coffee sloshed out, burning his hand and he lost it, crushing the flimsy cup in his fist and flinging it against the wall. Irritated, he fished out another paper cup from his stash in one of the barren cupboards.

He couldn't be trusted with anything more dangerous.

He poured the leftover coffee from the pot into his cup, then drained the disgusting beverage. His throat burned from it's nauseating taste, making him gag, but it wouldn't come back up. It never did. The bitter taste resided in his mouth as he collapsed into his hammock. He couldn't afford a real bed. Besides, this dump wasn't large enough anyway. Dissatisfied, he decided that he needed the awful liquid to come back up.

Crouching over the toilet, he forced two fingers down his throat, moving them up and down and feeling his teeth digging into his knuckles until they bled, but nothing came up. He gave a furious shout, then threw open his cupboard doors.

Bare.

Nothing unusual.

Groaning, he whirled around, heading back out. Shoving his tightly clenched fists in his pockets, he headed towards the shops. His grimy apartment was near the heart of the city so he didn't have far to go.

He experienced no interruptions as he walked with his head down.

Everyone avoided him.

He had money, but barely. Just enough to scrape by the rent with electricity and water. He did odd jobs for money, mostly black market shit. He hadn't always been like this, in high school he'd aspired to be a singer. He had a boyfriend then, a dream, a future.

Anti fucked it all up though.

She always did.

She'd forced his boyfriend into an affair with her, and Dark had said awful things in his fury and betrayal. Things he felt he'd never be able to fix. He hated himself for it, but he didn't think about what he said. It hurt too much.

He was more openly aggressive after that, and he couldn't bring himself to sing. His boyfriend was his biggest supporter, and without him...

He graduated high school that same year, but he'd been suspended several times for getting into physical fights. The school was slightly more lenient with him because of the abusive behavior towards him from his parents, but he was on the fence of getting expelled.

No one would hire him. He had a bad attitude and flared up easily. He was cold and heartless, lacking a soul. None of it bothered him though. He hated people. Humans were such vile creatures, obsessed with their rules and regulations and "good."