06-03-2018, 10:17 PM
AND I'M JUST A DEAD MAN WALKING TONIGHT
The rising thrum of Suite's voice was unmistakable, and it brought a sour taste to Bastille's mouth. He had zero intentions of requesting a damned song -- he knew that she could sing the French lullabies he remembered, was almost positive of it -- and he had zero intentions in approaching her, period. Just remembering how vividly she could remind him of his mother made him bitter and angry, his skin tight, and she was clearly not his mother. His mother would never turn on him so viciously, and he was voiding Suiteheart like the goddamn plague, irritated by the very sound of her singing in the distance.
So, he headed in the opposite direction, intent on finding a fucking drink.
[align=center]BASTILLEPRISONER — ASTRAL SERAPH — TAGSSo, he headed in the opposite direction, intent on finding a fucking drink.
Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago, Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword, Innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know, I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door. [b][sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup][/b]