her voice isn’t anything special. at least, that’s what priscilla would say to any who happen to hear it. she can hold a tune, sure, but she definitely isn’t the powerhouse maia is. there isn’t anything wrong with that, of course, but she does find the times people ask her to sing for them just because she is in a band a bit... bothersome. there are moments she finds herself slipping into a melody in public, however, and many of those moments belong to the convenience store. the lull of slow hours, the music of whoever got hold of the aux that day playing over the speakers. and today, it was priscilla’s playlist. in a feat of shameless self-promotion, she manages to slip disaster party into the mix. as she mindlessly sings along to their new song, fingers drumming against the cashier counter, she meets brian’s gaze. her lips press together, almost by reflex, but she brushes it off. “it’s a really good song, huh? i think they’re going places, especially their bassist,” priscilla teases, a shy grin plastered on her face. “wait, this is my favorite part!” without thought, she excitedly returns to the song, oblivious to the level of comfort she feels around him to do so. fist becomes a microphone, and she lightheartedly serenades him to the pop punk. that is, up until she sees the door open in her peripheral. immediately dropping her hand to her side, she greets the customer with a “hi, welcome” and dares not check to see brian’s reaction to her embarrassment.
stormborns
titsay
jbbartram-illu
yousharknotpass
janainaart
