『 the taste is plain on his tongue. drugs slip down his throat with ease, yet taste like the sweetest thing to him. ironically, of course. he knocks them back - a dopey grin coming to his face. there are lines that show years etched into his face, a mark added for each pill he swallows, each puff he exhales, each time he awakens in a place unfamiliar. hems surrounded by faces who crowd him - want to be seen with him. he's wanted. he is loved, and he bathes in it as the effects kick in. his vision blurs all the figures together; tait can't tell person from person. he grins all the same. there are gaps through the night - in his presence, and his memory. he recalls; fingers trailing along the bare skin of the unknown. it brings a laugh as he's brought back into reality. it comes as no shock as he feels warm lips against his pulse. another day at the office. 』
