"it's three in the morning." she says, and the vinyl that once spun with such vigor, slows to the inevitable death that lies at the end of a tune. she is left to the thoughts that roam ones mind at this hour of taboo.
"let's disappear together," he is tracing his finger along her back, forming odd constellations of the freckles dotting her spine.
"but we cant."
"and why not?"
"reality is a dangerous prison you can never, ever escape-- because we created it. monsters, and all."
