Post by Dark on Jan 7, 2008 3:26:00 GMT -5
~ Bringing Marie home from a long night of after proposing left him tired and wary. After carrying both himself, her, their clothes and the wheelchair uphill on the road to home had left his body ache. It had been a while since he had done proper exercise.
Placing her in their bed and tucking his lover under the cover he left her to sleep with a peck on the lips. His body was worn out but his mind being still active made him feel uncertain. Sure; he was as happy as can be, thrilled if not. But he was unrested about something. Pulling himself up to a locked wooden door he opened it to find a closet. It was full of dust moths and torn clothing as well as littered with large cardboard boxes that smelt like shoe mould. He looked down at his shirtless body for a while as if he were in thought. Taking up a box he placed it down onto the floor and opened the lid.
Inside were videos, syringes, photos, letters, maps and of course clothing. Searching his hands he picked up a black tank top. It had been so long since he wore this one. It still seemed to smell like blood but was in rather good shape despite being in a box for more than 7 years.
Pulling the shirt over his head and down his muscular frame he smiled to himself.
Was dressing up like his past self a sin?
Picking up a large leather collar with a buckle he did it up around his neck; covering over the large scar made from attempted hangings. Flexing his fingers he also found two wristbands. One covered in sharp metal studs, the other with smaller blunt round ones.
Taking a long sigh he cracked his back in joy. He didnt feel like wearing his boots so he left them in the box; bare foot was always best.
He also noticed another pile of videos stashed with the numbers " 222 " inscribed along them. He thought to himself that perhaps it wasnt best for her to wake up to the sound of her being tortured first thing in the morning so he left the box and closed the door.
Sitting himself down in the lounge chair he switched the tv on and rest up his feet, wriggling his toes.
Placing her in their bed and tucking his lover under the cover he left her to sleep with a peck on the lips. His body was worn out but his mind being still active made him feel uncertain. Sure; he was as happy as can be, thrilled if not. But he was unrested about something. Pulling himself up to a locked wooden door he opened it to find a closet. It was full of dust moths and torn clothing as well as littered with large cardboard boxes that smelt like shoe mould. He looked down at his shirtless body for a while as if he were in thought. Taking up a box he placed it down onto the floor and opened the lid.
Inside were videos, syringes, photos, letters, maps and of course clothing. Searching his hands he picked up a black tank top. It had been so long since he wore this one. It still seemed to smell like blood but was in rather good shape despite being in a box for more than 7 years.
Pulling the shirt over his head and down his muscular frame he smiled to himself.
Was dressing up like his past self a sin?
Picking up a large leather collar with a buckle he did it up around his neck; covering over the large scar made from attempted hangings. Flexing his fingers he also found two wristbands. One covered in sharp metal studs, the other with smaller blunt round ones.
Taking a long sigh he cracked his back in joy. He didnt feel like wearing his boots so he left them in the box; bare foot was always best.
He also noticed another pile of videos stashed with the numbers " 222 " inscribed along them. He thought to himself that perhaps it wasnt best for her to wake up to the sound of her being tortured first thing in the morning so he left the box and closed the door.
Sitting himself down in the lounge chair he switched the tv on and rest up his feet, wriggling his toes.
In here is a tradgety, art thou player or audince?