Aaa i cant wait to write the next chapter im so excited for what ive planned ajcbwhbs! Hope u guys will like it but anyhow enjoy this one for the time being❤️
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Song title from:
Snap out of it & The bad thing
There's a theory called The Stone Tape theory, a belief popularized by Nigel Kneale. Basically going that some inanimate objects such as a rock, or a wall, or a mirror; have the ability to preserve the sounds made around them.
Stating that living things are able to record, store, and play back certain sounds/energy from certain periods of time under certain conditions.
It was an unnamed theory conjured up in the mid 19th century, primarily used to provide a natural elucidation for supernatural phenomena. An easy explanation for the people hearing voices, or for the ones unable to shake away some sort of 'bad energy' resting in the walls of their homes.
The only reason Talaska had any knowledge on such an impossible and -rebuked by many physicians and scientists- theory, was because she herself was once seeking a feasible explanation for the voices in her head.
The first time she had went back to her and Rob's house to pack the remainder of her things, Talaska walked along the hallways and let her fingers graze upon the surface of the walls- curious that maybe his voice was coming from within them instead of from her own mind. But once she was back at the apartment, struggling to unload several boxes and crates with a large bump; the constant ringing of his voice still lived up there.
And she concluded that the theory was absolute bullshit.
Somewhere between the seventh or eighth shot of pure vodka -Alex's arm had snaked around the woman sat beside him. Generally someone to display a cold shouldered demeanor toward uninvited touches- as Alex laid his cheek upon her bare shoulder, he felt nothing but warmth.
"Kiss me."
He had stated, blurred by the fact of it being a request or an entitled order.
Letting out a laugh in response and placing her hand on his face, she tipped her head low as to not let anyone else hear.
"You wish."
Pushing his head only for it to claim its place on her skin again.
Circling around them were their group of tipsy friends, all busy carrying on with their lousy attempts at karaoke to notice the interaction going on behind them.
"Why won't you kiss me?"
Staring at her lips and imagining the countless possibilities of where just one kiss would lead them to, his eyelids grow heavy and he wonders whether the recurring images were real or if he had maybe fallen asleep- now in a blissful dream inhabited by her.
"Because you're drunk. And I'm only tipsy. That would be like,,, I don't know, me taking advantage of you?"
The sound of her voice snaps his eyes open again. He had been in an too engrossing reverie as it turns out. But as his conscious fell back into reality, it felt as if he'd entered a stage of limbo; floating and going in and out between real and dream. Because she looked so beautiful and felt so warm in the red fluorescents bouncing from the tv screen of this cramped four-walled room- he just couldn't see the possibility of it being real.
"But I'm quite literally asking for it, love."
"Fine... Then,,, it's because you're drunk, and I'm tipsy, and you've just gotten your heart broken."
"Ah. You had to remind me."
"You forgot?"
She said with a giggle.
"No. Anyway. Y'know I'm not too bummed bout it."
YOU ARE READING
Despair In The Apartment Lounge
ספרות חובביםThe lights in her room were off but the natural city lights and night sky coming through her window illuminated her room enough for me to see her mouth as she talked. See her lips twitch, her nose scrunch up, her smile exposing her teeth; two fangs...
