muke//kissing in the rain

chapter 2

I stared up at my ceiling, counting the seconds. I tend to do that to keep myself from having an existential crisis and I'll be it in a morbid trance that I won't escape for days. No eating, sleeping, talking(not like I do much of that anyway), or anything involving leaving my bedroom. Intend to overthink anyway, so when I'm in this state of mind I'm surprised my head doesn't combust. Nothing can distract me except for counting. Every. Second.

Kodaline was playing softly out of the speakers I got for my birthday 3 years ago from my aunt Lynn . She says that it would do me some good to have some music in my life. She introduced me to all sorts of wonderful artists and genres. I never really listened to music before that point in time. It just wasn't relevant. Now I love music. There is a song to express every feeling and emotion and the sounds sympathize with you. It's funny how sometimes songs trigger emotions. as well society states that you are what you listen to. I don't think it's entirely true, what is accurate is that with the write lyrics, notes and mood, you enable the listener to discern what message you're trying to get across. But a type of music cannot change to make a person. The person listens to whatever music they feel understands them. Unless you're the kind of person that listens to whatever flows through you're hits radio, that's cool too.

I've come to the conclusion that it's difficult to count seconds, yet thoughts still swimming through my head. The warning bell for my near-breakdown has stopped. The box spring squeaked as I deserted my bed, hauling myself to the window. I stuck my head outside, breathing in the crisp air. I heard crushed stone under tires as my neighbours car pull into their driveway. The hoods owned the apartment estate, their residence was next door. Or apartment was the last one, so closest to an exit and to their house. The hoods didn't like me. They loved my mum though. Or at least her apple pie.

They were very welcoming. When we first moved in last year, we invited them over for dinner. It was a nice time, but they were confused when I disregarded all their interrogations. Poor mum had to explain my situation. She was a bit embarrassed, which was odd. I don't think there's anything wrong with me.

They had a son named Calum. He was about my age, and Asian looking. He seemed a bit uncivil and self-righteous, but we went to my bedroom and started to talk. Well, I wrote. After 20 minutes he wasn't amused by my written rant about John green and my opinions on people and life. He asked why I didn't talk. I shrugged, not in the mood to give him an answer. He frowned and told me I was strange. I thanked him. He left. I shrugged. I don't think I should be treated differently, to be honest.

My door creaked open, Liz bustling through holding a mug of tea she set it down on the small round table by my bed for me, before smoothing down her skirt and daintily seating herself on wide platform of a window ledge. I smiled at her, before redirecting my eyes back to the distant lights of the city.

"I know how much you don't like being around people you don't know, honey, but I think it'd be quite nice to get out more."

I tilted my head slightly, nodding at her words. "I have been getting out." I say, still staring out my window.

She exhales deeply. "Luke, you go out when it's raining. I know you like the rain, but I also know you like to dodge all social situations. Thursday calls for good weather in the day. I'm sending you out to run some errands for me. And you can have some free time. I will be out of town on business, but I will know if you stay hold up in the house."

I raise my eyebrows at her Inhuman request. How could she??

"Why does it matter?" I inquire, sticking out my bottom lip and picking up my hot mug of tea.

"Luke you are doing this and that is final. And to add to it, you will be going out in the daylight at least once a week. Now get your beauty sleep, you can't go looking like a bag of weasels now can you?"

I sighed in defeat as she stood up to leave, kissing my forehead before she left my room. I'm not looking forward to leaving my cave. My cave is safe. The outernet is not. Nothing good will come out of like hemmings trying to socialize. Nothing.

I crawled into my nest, choosing to leave the fairy lights that hung from my ceiling aglow, and I fell into a deep slumber, dreaming of Apple pie and a specific pair of green eyes.

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Chapters are short, but I won't take long to upload them so yeee. Sorry there isn't much muke yet but don't you worry your pretty little mind, it's coming. And that picture is one of my favourite muke pictures. It's fetus but it's gold.