#balancingindifference

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The jolt in his form certainly hadn’t gone unnoticed, electricity surging through his eyes, down his spine and to his very fingertips. The absolute alarm froze all his limbs and temptation demanded he gasp. This wouldn’t be permitted with the lump firmly blocking his airways. Preventing the flow to his brain to process the lady, a former interest standing mere feat away.

Shock was soon forgotten, and in it’s destructive wake left a dreaded sinking. A feeling that dug a pit into the reaches of his stomach and willed his hands into balled fists. Shoes digging into the ground as an illness possessed the writer.

It had only been a few years, and yet the roaring twenties hadn’t spared him in that moment. Memories rushing back and diving into his arms as if he were still the youthful, content gentlemen he used to be.

The truth could practically be located in space, it was so far..

Acting purely on instinct when in average social situations, Nick shyed away at the illusion. Silently praying that it was just that, a fabrication. Nothing but thin air manifesting itself into the gossipy Jordan Baker..

If God could peer into his eyes, he would see a writhing, foreboding soul.

Miss Baker always had the unfortunate ability to see right through him, almost as if Gatsby himself was made the thinnest glass. Her dark eyes, narrowed in her typical bored fashion stared into him as if staring into his soul. As if seeing him for the first time.

Send me a symbol and I’ll describe my muse’s…Status: Accepting

              “Go on all you want about it.           Need I remind you that I am not the one married?          I have no part in this. Why I can easily           tell your wife that I’m nothing more than    a one night fling although this has been going on    for much longer than that.      A terrible mistake is what you’ll call it, right?                  That’s what all married men say.”