/ˈɒpjʊl(ə)ns,ˈɒpjʊləns/
⇒noun
great wealth or luxuriousness.
"you taste of melancholia and rotting pain"
"and you, of an opulence that courses within the broken veins of a decaying dynasty"
cover by @plutoqissed
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─ · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─
Upon the weight of morn, Ransom's restless sleep woke him up just in two hours, taking their own sweet time to trail upon Anya who was lying peacefully beside him. Any sense of worry or melancholia erased from her features for she looked peaceful for once yet so unaware of it.
'I love you too,' he helplessly whispered upon her sleeping architect, although making the words dangerously quiet, hoping that his own ears hadn't picked up on them.
good times for a change, see the luck i've had can make a good man turn bad. so please, please, please, let me, let me, let me. let me get what i want, this time.
Ransom then fled back to his room before the sun had awoken in the hues of a lighter night as he crawled back in bed with his wife ever so slightly. Chucking his trousers into the void of their room as he got beneath the sheets with his boxers and his back scarred with nail marks.
After the passing of another hour, Anya seemed to awaken, contents of last night dizzying her head 'Shit' she murmured, leaving the bed as his beige sweater dressed her body just up to her knees. Oh, if only she heard his morning whisper.
Shoving the wine bottle between her clothed breasts for support as she picked the huddle of her clothes running along on her tiptoes back to the room she had chosen to sleep in for the night.
Her anxious ears noticed the absence of the hail, unanswered questions and the remains of unrequited love had once again saddened her waking body. The monochromatic pixels of drunken lust transcribed upon her carcass as wasteful poetry.
"Anya..." She heard a sudden voice whisper out the door. A squeak fell from her mouth with the whirlwind of doubts clustered upon her unkempt being.
"Fuck, Char...what is it?" She realised speaking back in her normal tone.
"Wake up! we need to get ready for morning stuff." she paused
"So when exactly do we get to leave? I've got classes today."
"Same, not sure maybe if you actually woke up the last time I came knocking."
'Well that was a close call' she thought, perfecting the spaces of time in which her window of secrecy had presented itself through the flesh of fate. "Hold on-" Anya abruptly finished, finally unleashing the door dressed in yesterday's clothes.
Charlene already had the scent of sunrise cinnamon and a fresh morning gleam of emerald thyme. A paradox to the stench of masochist sex and tenebrific sleep paralysis pigmented upon Anya.
---
"Ransom, we need to talk" Margot mewled.
"Yes...I think we do, I've been meaning to for a while now..." Ransom regurgitated, as Margot was put back by the blatant sincerity of his words. Even though their relationship was more casual, as he let himself a bit loose around her, this was definitely new. 'Fuck hopes she'll say yes to a divorce, do I just gotta ask...so casually?' His thoughts were a mess.
