#kaleidoscopicbrainwaves

↳ THIRTY-SEVEN MINUTES has ticked slowly by to the tune of hours in his mind, chaos and carnage cocooning him in a slow motion haze as he moves through his wreckage, so carefully constructed by his hand. he sifts through the sights and sounds with focus he’s never known. (there’s a fire alarm going off now and the sprinkler system finally kicked its ass into gear. he expected more screaming and the smell of gunpowder is thick and blood is a little more black than he imagined it when it pools like that on the floor and —) he isn’t sure what the point of MEMORIZING the details is anymore. a nine millimeter bullet will soon erase them all. time is running out as the chorus of sirens outside begins to grow. he isn’t bothered. the high is ebbing away and now he’s just beginning to feel goddamned tired. zero day is almost over, the noble war so close to won. just as soon as he’s the last one breathing in this library, he’ll finally be able to rest. if anyone is alive, they’re doing their due diligence and HIDING. he whistles a tune as he scans the rows, knocking over stacks of books and clearing bodies with the toe of his boot, searching. if anyone is left, he’ll FIND them.

↳ heart stops — METAPHORICALLY, of course — as the pieces of the scenario begin to fit flush with one another. the unconcealed fire in her eyes is hellish, cold for a flame that burns so brightly. she fucking KNOWS. he has done everything he can go prevent this moment, half truths and concealed answers to how he came to be a ghost, subject changes swift and definitive at the first hint of the conversation taking a turn for THAT topic. he is panicked and childish, arms outstretched as if to ensnare her once more when she pulls away so fiercely. his voice barely escapes his throat as he circles around to face her, shaking his head vehemently.       ‘ violet, please. let me EXPLAIN— ’

Me: DEAD

god she fascinated him. much like a hyper  puppy ,  he  climbed   onto  the wall she sat on, placing himself directly opposite her. crossing his  legs  he suggested towards the lit cigarette she had been inhaling. he liked the way it felt in his lungs. it’s not like he could get cancer anyway, he was  already  dead (both physically and mentally).

↳ valentine's day. it has never been a holiday tate was particularly enthusiastic about, although he scarcely had a reason to be. it was not as though the boy had been privy to a long list of romantic interests vying to be his date on this, the most celebrated of overly commercialized holidays. this year, however, would be different. this would be the day that he finally wrapped up this plan of getting violet harmon into a compromising situation, before he found himself in any further of one. no more being the shoulder to cry on, no more making eyes at her down the hall when he was certain she could not see. no more of this pretending which had begun to feel almost REAL in such an unsettling way. he waits patiently, all smiles and relaxed posture with his hands in his pockets as he stands to the side of the door to her last class, waiting to spot that flash of dirty blonde hair as she exits the room. somewhere in the middle of the herd that files out, he sees her.      ‘ hey, ’ he mumbles with a grin, falling in step with her as she makes her way down the hall, pulling her hand into his.      ‘ come hang out with me. we can spend valentine's day being lonely together. ’