#zachkent

#1 development type

mainly unhealthy but in a similar pattern to normal. 

#2 a joke for myself

laugh with me

#3 internal vibe

sorry i couldn’t hear you over my internal monologue

#4 

♦: Your muse asked mine to marry them, what's my muse's reaction?

Riley ignored him, shushing him with a mouth full of popcorn, eyes not leaving the screen. She was sure he was just messing with her in order for her to miss her favorite part. She didn’t catch his words, figuring he had begun to rebel after she forced him to tag along to watch Gone with the Wind at the shitty, horror-movie plot drive-in. Only a handful of cars scattered across the dirt lawn alone with them, all older and not able to take their eyes off of the young couple. She didn’t hide in the trunk for no damn reason. They only have the exact change floating around the cup holders, finding some bills shoved in the glove compartment. 

He asked again, her head slowly turning, popcorn stuck to her lip. “What? What the hell are you on? Shut up and stop ruining ” She tossed a piece at him to shut him up. She rolled her eyes at the screen, although her heart was racing. He turned her face, asking again. “You’re fucking serious, aren’t you..” Her eyes wide, heart racing so fast she could throw up. If this was a joke, she was going to make a damn fool out of herself. “Let’s do it.” She spoke with a laugh, her eyes fixed on his face. It was fucking crazy, but so were her feelings for him. What did they have to lose? "Jesus, I always wanted you to commit.. boy when you do it, you fucking do it.” She kissed him quickly twice, her body practically in his seat, before controlling herself and looking back at the screen. “Now sh. Or we’ll watch this movie again.” She threatened low, other cars staring at them now even harder. She popped another piece in her mouth, smiling the rest of the movie.

☠: Your muse has died, this is how mine reacts.

Her eyes opened to darkness. It took her a few moments before she registered that she was actually awake. It took her another few moments before she stretched her limbs under the sea blankets, before she allowed her dry lips to part. The light coming in from outside world told her it was night- or maybe early hours in the morning. What time was it? What day was it? She slowly pushed herself to sit upright, her body aching and sore. Her joints snapping and creaking loudly in the silence. Her face was tight, her eyes swollen to the point where she wasn’t sure if she was still half asleep or if they were actually as puffy as they felt. She looked around the dark, her face emotionless, confused at the most. She sat, covers over her legs. Slowly, her eyes made out figures around her. A desk with papers and some clutter pushed around on it, a floor lamp with a flannel hanging over it unevenly. His things. She choked out a sigh, eyes flickering back and forth like she was just told the news, like it just happened. Her throat unable to swallow or let air in and out, dry like she had not had water in weeks. A hand went to her throat, scratching her way down to pull on the loose shirt collar. The shirt she was in had been big enough to swim in, but she felt like it was suffocating her. Another instant punch to the gut. It was his. She flung the covers her her head like a child, whimpers leaving her lips and she burrowed deeper into the sea. The sheets smelled like him. How did she get to his room? Inhaling the surrounding scent of him like once the remaining smell wore off and was gone, so would he. 

Lily had been lost in an ocean from the day Penny took her away.

The worse things became, the farther she was pushed from shore. Zach was a life raft - far off in the distance for a majority of her life. She could always see him and she knew he was there, but he was always just out of her reach.

His death took that  a w a y.

Now he was an anchor,               chain wrapped around her as she struggled against the waves that she had stayed afloat in for so long.

It was quick to pull her under.