FT: junie bacalso-coughlan. @cloyingblccd INT: slaughterhouse rave.
Delilah imagined herself membranous, against the strobes, pictured stark red veins forking through her pale flesh like an albino rabbit's ears. There was this quality in the air surrounding her, as the night progressed, of unreality, a distance from everything tangible; had she been there, truly, dancing in the crowd, eyelids fluttering with every wayward drape of her long limbs? Had she been there, across the room, when Adrien and Leona were practically nose to nose, fleeting intimacies exchanged like lifelines, or folded outside of herself, a mass of figgy, exposed flesh with a thousand susceptible nerve ends? Drifting through the upstairs floor of the slaughterhouse, Delilah came to pause besides Junie at a rail overlooking the pulsing crowds, clearly so absorbed in trying to spot someone that she didn't clock Delilah's arrival. Languidly laying her hands on the rail, the metal clammed against her hot palms, cold and constant as a dead star. Her eyes drifted, studied the square chisel of Junie's jaw, pondered her one of two matching costume with an expression as hollow as bird bones. "You look delicious. Like I could just..." trailed off, lips flickering with a smile like a small flame, "eat you." Milky irises intent on Junie's, Delilah looked at her, through her, inside the unravelling seams of time; everything and nothing, all at once. The air reverberated, heart humming beneath her ribcage like a caged bird. "Where'd your little blonde boyfriend scamper off to?"
