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𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴 𝚆𝙸𝙽𝙳 𝙲𝙷𝙸𝙼𝙴 , 𝙲𝚁𝙾𝙾𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚂𝙾𝙵𝚃𝙻𝚈 , 𝚢𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚍 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 in the quietude of this environment for him to hear her clearly , for his attention to be seized by the randomness of her company . panning over , he instantly wonders just how voluntary her presence has presented itself to be – if she’s been here for a while , or if her aura has beared witness to his world , full disclosure . ❝ 𝚒 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 i was being looked for . ❞ and it’s funny [ … ] how all answers lead to here , of all places , in the nestle of leather and mahogany , the splinters and tears of a hole in the wall he thought he himself couldn’t be bothered with – up until the evening . it turned to twilight and loneliness shelled itself frigid among his bones , became all the more undying in the nimbleness of sadness , where veins have gone from blue to purple , and the bags under his eyes have gone from bad to worse . sometimes , patrons aren’t people , but rather skeletons , wanting to shed off their flesh already . and for him , maybe he’s already close . as he stares at her , maybe he’s already come as hollow as bone , edging death against this very special moment , seeming almost innocuous – 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚢 . ❝ i’m off the clock , you know . ❞
