there was a very specific sound of the summer in st. clementine on a sunday night. it came from the veins of traffic jetting through the city, carried by the salty sea breeze. as always, he was just below it all. the hot sun beating on his face, flip flops slapping on that unforgiving concrete, the gas station AC rushing against his face. love in transit. lives in vignettes. and here he was again, dazed by the sounds of summer, caught up on the tragedy of having only one body. whenever he walked into cat's place on those sunday evenings, he felt unraveled within minutes. she split him right open to the beehive of hearts unknown and lives he'll never get to dream about. her parting hair, her svelte form, the dark eyes - all of it kicked him right back to that one year in akita, punched the air out of him longing for a better time. her laughter made him feel like a 12-year-old boy again, made his tongue slip into broken japanese. her presence was unbearably comforting, sometimes too reassuring for his own good. stepping outside and being reminded of reality made his stomach turn in agony. escapism in its finest form. today was particularly bad. he wanted to forget about the outside, feel like they were the only people on this godforsaken planet. he pulled two beers out of the freezer, cooled down by now. walking back into the living room he cracked one open and placed it onto the coffee table in front of cat. "what are you watching?" he asked, admitting he hadn't paid proper attention to whatever was running on the screen before the let himself drop onto her couch. / / @wrathbane
