#f.interactions

you know what’s great--?? ecstasy. ecstasy is great. drugs are amazing. it’s really incredible how one little pill can transform a person’s life--- felix firmly believes that his life will never be the same after tonight. call it a hunch, or maybe a rare form of optimism, but either way--?? he’s is on goddamn cloud nine right now. he wonders why the hell he hasn’t done this before. the music, the people, the humid air, and more than anything: the way everything seems to flow together so beautifully. if he had a notebook, he would be jotting down everything. 

“W--Wow this is re--ally amazing.” and he almost sounds like a normal human being, for the first time in as long as he can remember ( mostly because the nights spent binging on ambien are nearly never recalled ). it makes his grin even wider--or at least he thinks it does. 

the feeling of sheer idiocy is so strong that felix has already determined once and for all that he is never going to celebrate halloween again. hell, he isn’t even sure why he’s here in the first place. holly disappeared into the crowd awhile ago, leaving him alone and irreverently dressed  as a priest to match her virgin mary. he’s found his way to one of the side walls, glass gripped right in his hands as he desperately tries to sip away the tension in his chest. he doesn’t realize he’s been staring directly at the floor for the last... well, who knows until a presence is beside him.

fix – muse a adjusts a piece of muse b’s clothing

touch has never come naturally to felix. it has always seemed a strangely forced thing that he has understood is sort of necessary, but the nuances of when and how much have always evaded him. the only exception is one girl that he very much so enjoys touching as much as he can ----- but that isn’t exactly the type of contact that he would expect with cash. 

“Y--y--our--” before he can really think about the potential implications, he has grown tired of the idea of speaking and reaches out, smoothing his friend’s creased collar. it’s only after his shaking hand returns to his side that he realizes that may have been a little... what, weird? 

the wind is bracing as felix walks, cigarette in shaking fingers. the aftermath of the vasile party may be much bigger than he realizes, but to him it is all encompassing. not one day has passed in which he hasn’t wondered is this going to happen again? and thus far, the solution has been more pills, more alcohol, and less discretion. who cares if he loses his job?? he almost died because of the vasiles already. 

the cold wind against his face causes a violent shiver to ripple through him---enough that he doesn’t even notice the impending collision with a stranger---- 

🍻+ “ who are you, really ? ” // felix 

what a fucking question. were he sober, the answer would be felix geller --- a not particularly clever avoidance of the question’s implications. but with a little (or maybe a lot) of booze and a few unmentionables in his system, this question cannot go unanswered, no matter how much he may regret it after the warm buzz in his head has settled to a dull and throbbing headache. 

“Who a-am I?” he lets out a heaving sigh as he tries to gather the racing thoughts. there are so many funny ways he could respond, but every half-formed punchline evades him for a much less lighthearted answer. his tongue, loose with vodka, works against him.

“---I-I’m a failu--re of a wr--iter. Everyo--one I’ve ev--er loved has di--ed in fro--ront of me. I ca--an’t keep my l-lights on. I can’t st---op do--ing drugs----” 

solidarity is something that a person with difficulty communicating rarely finds. in fact, felix has never found someone like him--never someone with an issue so restrictive that... well, sometimes it’s just easier not to talk at all. and even when he did encounter someone who came even close, they always had something sickeningly positive to say. you should check out speech therapy. it was life changing. or i tried thinking in french or it’s okay, sweetie, god gives us these trials for a reason. the last of which has always come as a particularly harsh sting. but this stranger, someone he’s really only had passing small talk with, just seems to get it.

ironically, felix has also never found someone he desires to communicate with so strongly. 

in the cool silence of the library, he finds himself settling down in the secluded little corner near his new... friend? could he use that word so liberally? for a moment, his mind goes blank. then, he remembers what he rehearsed:

ask my muse any question, but they can only answer yes or no! x || felix

from cassidy for felix: “ It’s only forever, not long at all. “

well that was... strangely profound. except the problem was that felix was too focused on lighting his cigarette to recognize any semblance of context. he felt the back of his neck flush pink as he took his first drag.