#awb

"Every window holds a life - a heartbeat, a secret, a moment that no one else will ever see.

Some are laughing, some are breaking, some are simply trying to make it through another night.

It's strange how close we are, and yet how little we know about the worlds glowing."

"Hey Siri, play 'Espresso'" <3

Angst. SFW, still MDNI 🔞

Dorian is from the 10:16 VN.

Notes: This was written very quickly and I felt like being just as melodramatic as the awful bratty goth, so please excuse any purple prose.

The plot has been haunting me ever since Dorian threw us into the elevator and I sent in an ask saying a certain yearning Mitski song suited him.

I love Dori but Woe. Angst be upon you.

…

Dorian is awake tonight, a pink glow on his face from the endless artificial sun.

Complex emotions are unfolding unbidden. He is completely alone but his cheeks are blooming with memories of you.

He can hear thumps and cracks from ash and birds outside, like the strong working and the sharp pain of his heart. He wonders what you can hear. If you still do.

The ash still rustles, patters, and sighs. It’s a taunting echo of your footfall, every light step a second he won’t get back.

Dorian’s chest pounds louder. The ash storm buffets, hapless birds colliding rhythmically with the windows like the booming of an agitated heart.  

Dorian is long dead, should not feel these sensations, but his body intimately remembers loss like a phantom wound. His breath comes thick as if gulping the corrupted smog inside. The rosy light is dimming as the slowly obscuring windows are buried and his eyes blur.

If he had only just been more patient in that moment… he could bear to stare at your turned back. Your averted face. The back of your sleeping head. He could endure any naivety or resistance for as long as it took.

He could almost have kissed you before.

He didn’t do any of that right.