сонный

Or send “Bad Touch reverse” for our muses to switch roles.

“We’ll carry on.”

“I’m who I’ve got to be.”

“Tell me I’m a bad man.”

“Can I meet you, alone?”

“Try. You’ll never break me.”  

“I am not afraid to keep on living.”

“Did you get what you deserve?”

“I won’t explain or say I’m sorry.”

“Well, I think I’m gonna burn in hell.”

“Your misery and hate will kill us all.”

“Ain’t a preacher gonna save me now.”

“I am not afraid to walk this world alone.”

“Ain’t nobody gonna get the best of me.”

“And wouldn’t it be great if we were dead?”

“We can leave this world, leave it all behind.”

“You can run away with me anytime you want.”

“Because the only hope for me is you, alone.”

“Stop asking me questions. I’d hate to see you cry.”

“Well, if you wanted honesty, that’s all you had to say.”

“Well I felt I couldn’t take another day inside this place.”

“You might wake up and notice you’re someone you’re not.”

“Can I be the only hope for you? Because you’re the only hope for me.”

“But you really need to listen to me, because I’m telling you the truth.”

send me a symbol and i’ll tell you:

Rei couldn’t quite figure this guy out. But he seemed like an interesting sort. Rei could tell as soon as he’d fallen through him that he wasn’t quite…how was the polite way to note it? Alive? Yeah. Of all the accidental falling-through-people he’d done in his life, he could now pretty much tell the difference from the feeling whether the victim of his falls was alive or…undead? Not having much ‘life’ in himself, being a spirit and all, Rei decided that maybe that was something these two would bond over, if nothing else.

“Despite us all being supernatural here on campus…there are things that never seem to fail to weird people out. And I happen to accidentally do it…a lot. I’m pretty good with electrics, so maybe…maybe we can go mess with some people before the night is over…”

Sergei waggled his eyebrows. Now this could be fun after all.

“Sounds funny. Yeah, why don’t we do that?” He’d heard of ghosts and spirits being able to do all kinds of interesting things. Ringing the dean’s phone off the hook or blasting porn in the student theater sounded like just the kind of mischief Sergei wanted to get up to tonight.

“Remembering an old companion?”

The voice struck Sergei out of the blue. A tiny little elven girl, kinda green in the face, sat next to him, sucking an olive out of a martini.

“The ones with myself in are always the ones that look the worst too, to be honest. Always the ones that hold more memories than those that don’t involve me, y’know? You end up pawing them a li’l too much, and before you know it - ruined.”

Luna chattered away, oblivious to the fact she’d probably interrupted this guy from some emotions that hadn’t made it to the surface in a while. 

“An old friend? A brother? It looks like from that one you’ got there that he had fun no matter if he was bleeding from every oriface. Must’a been special, huh?”

She leant over to the guy sat next to her. He looked troubled. Maybe now was not the best time to intrude. 

“Ah…excuse me. I’ll be on my way…” she scooted off the stool, and hesitated for a moment. Did he need company or not?

At the sudden sound of her voice, he’d instinctively closed his hand around the picture. It was embarrassing to be caught acting so sentimental. He had a tough reputation to uphold, after all. The girl chattered away at him and before he even got the chance to say anything, she seemed to have her feelings hurt. She was already starting to leave when Sergei finally got a grip on himself.

“Uh, no. It’s okay.” He was unsure of himself. It felt strange to be throwing a pity party one second and then comforting someone else the next. He patted the stool next to him.

You’re not supposed to put your fingers on the image. You’re only supposed to hold a photo by the edges. If it’s an older one, like this one, you can hold the white frame where nothing is printed. Out of all the prints Sergei kept in the shoe box under his bed, the ones with him in them were in the worst shape. He just couldn’t keep his hands off of them.

It was one of those days. Where he couldn’t get the mental pictures out of his head. Rafael laughing. Rafael with a bloodied nose. Rafael winking at him. Rafael with fangs bared. Rafael’s hand on his. Rafael’s fist in someone’s face. To say he missed him was an understatement. 

❣ - hands

❤ - voice

۵ - feet

❦ - lips

ø - eyes

ღ - nose

♮ - body type

♫ - singing voice

✮ - sleeping habits

✉ - texting habits

✿ - laugh

✍ - writing style

⌨ - time-wasting habits

❅ - keeping warm/keeping cool techniques

✎ - taste in music/literature

☤ - self care/first aid habits

✪ - favourite food/eating habits

☁ - ideal holiday

✄ - nervous habits

☂ - sadness