❝why do people even smoke? its only going to hurt you in the aftermath.❞ 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘴, ❝i hate smokers..❞
❝well that's just how the world works.. sad lucks baby girl--❞
❝i'm a boy you dimwit.❞ 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴, ❝at least know who you're killing.❞
wherein...
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꒰ 🐿 ꒱
P R O L O G U E
--->
no one focus
It was a quiet windy downfall evening. Faint sounds of water mixture winds sweeping past the open dandelion field. Their delicate white petals of each planted flower, being blown gracefully away with its prey, the icy-cold wind.
Gentle water droplets casting down from heavy dusted grey clouds, falling onto a golden framed half rounded casement arched glass window.
As if it has nothing else better to do, there was laziness to them. Scattering about, barely bothering to conform to the will of gravity.
"Close your eyes~ Let's pretend that we're both counting sheep." Hummed a low male's voice.
"Close your eyes~ Oh This is divine.."
Soft tones of jazz melodies booms off an antique dark wooden radio, that stood tall on a rounded marble top coffee table. Music almost as loud as the burning firewood seen past the black bars at a white faux stone fireplace. Decorating a series of reds, blues and orange flames.
The rain droplets however, not nearing even close to its smokey uproar.
"Something dreamy for dancing~ While were here romancing~ It's love's holiday." the voice continued singing along, "And love will be our guide."
"Close your eyes~"
titty-TAP
titty-TAP
Trickled footsteps overshadows the tender woman's voice that played off the radio. Its steps somewhat matching with outside's blaring winds.
"Hmm? What do we have here.. Doris Day?" another male voice spoke, his voice however was hoarse, "Bravo little bun-bun, never took you for an old fashioned guy."
