FOR HALOS. ⁽ ᵃᵘᵗᵒ ⁾

  this one,  oh,  this one !  a bright eyed, dopey-smiled  HEARTACHE  that easily draws in a soul that tries to shine just as much — how do they meet ?  by chance, of course !  or,  in this case... misfortune ?  almost.  

to explain, let’s roll it back two minutes ago and start it off with a fact :  emily is an absolute hellion, a downright menace.  for someone with decent grades  (  which don’t exactly make sense,  but that’s not the point  )  and a diploma to show,  it’s very surprising that he even made it out... let alone kept himself mostly out of the big house, too.  especially when he does things like this.  because in those TWO MINUTES before, he had been falling asleep among the bleachers of his local high school’s football game, yawning up a storm.  and it only took one minute to decide his next event —  “ to liven it up ”  he just might say.

              ‘ liven it up ’  equaled tackling the mascot.  full-force, head over entire fucking body.  ouch.

and now ?  now he’s running as fast as he can, dodging bodies left  &  right until it’s too difficult, until he simply has to grab this one he’s just slammed into and hope they can take off at a decent speed, panicked laughter  &  all.

  cemetery drive is a lonely little ache parked in the desert’s heart,  almost a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it place if it weren’t for the brightly painted  ‘ tombstones ’  made from broken stones or jumbled debris bound together by rope.  other markers are sun-faded jackets, masks laid out beside them  (  left alone until the witch arrives to dispose of them herself, of course  ) .  its keeper ?  the figure who sits shadowed beneath the makeshift cover of a rickety, abandoned shed,  gaze fixed on the horizon ahead.  content.  but,  ah,  the shuffling announcement of someone new catches wide-eyed wandering attention before drawing him to his feet with ease seconds after.  who could mistake that face,  that shade ?

         ❝ hey,  wait,   i - i - i think i might have... something that belongs to you !  hold on,  okay ? ❞

all six-three of gangly limbs rushes into the shed only to emerge a minute later,  yellow mask in tow.  catch how nerves show in a slight tremble when he reaches forth,  offering it out.  never been good at this,  whatever it is.

    — you like  d & d,  audrey hepburn,   fangoria,  harry houdini,  and  croquet .   you can't swim,  you can't dance,   and   you  don't  know  karate .   face  it,   YOU’RE   NEVER   GONNA   MAKE   IT  !