Soul (
are_you_99) wrote2009-03-13 05:20 am
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no strings could secure you at the station
There is a boy of an unidentifiable age sitting at a piano. Shadows eclipse most of this room, the only light that shines comes from the ivory of the keys; but when there is little light, it serves not to illuminate, but rather to enhance the mystery.
You were not here before. Do you even remember where you had been before? Surely it matters not at this moment. There is a boy, there is a piano, and there is a small demon pushing at your legs - push, shuffle, push, until you're in the room and the door
clanks
shut.
You were not here before. Do you even remember where you had been before? Surely it matters not at this moment. There is a boy, there is a piano, and there is a small demon pushing at your legs - push, shuffle, push, until you're in the room and the door
clanks
shut.
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Are his noises encouraging enough to Crona that it ain't hurtin'? Getting pretty loud, here.
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He's almost wailing from the moans at this point, his expressions have changed altogether.
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He tastes every bit of Crona's mouth that he can, he shouts Crona's names to the neverending expanses above, and he just - can't - stop -
"Crona, I'm g-gonna - I'm gonna - !"
Tighten, as much as he can. Tryin' to get Crona to come along with him, too.
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"F-fuck," he exclaims. "Crona!"
All he can think when he comes is the same two damn words, over and over and over: 'fuckin' amazing'.
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....
And then he rests his head on Crona's shoulder again. :P