#another lonely night

[ozskob]

Adam Lambert’s The Original High singles with Fam made cover art for Evil in the Night radio single and The Original High. 

[undertheinfluence]

[psychedelic-pumpkin]

The wlw posts on here really be making me feel more lonely than I do when I watch gay movies

[cimw]

[kaeel]

I try my best, but there's no one left for me to lose.

[the-ego-fic-train]

Another Lonely Night

Dark approached Wilford several times.

Only once did he ever show any form of memory towards what they went through. And that reaction was not something Dark intended.

In a way, it made Dark happy. It made him happy that his friend did not have to remember and endure the pain like he did.

But in another way it hurt him that no one could know. No one should have known. None of them needed to go through or even hear about that fateful day.

When everyone discovered, Dark hated the pity. He hated the fact that they all stared at him like a three legged dog.

Every so often he would be asked, “Are you okay?” And he would roll his eyes and continue onward. The truth was, Dark had not been asked that question in a very long time. The truth was that there once existed a time where he was so desperate to speak about the events, he attempted to approach Wilford.

Warfstache was in his room doing who-knows-what, when Dark slowly opened the door.

“Hm? Who is it?” He said as he turned towards the door. His eyes popped open much wider the minute he saw who was standing in the doorway.

“Hello, Wil.” Dark whispered. No one would notice it, but the rings under his eyes had become more defined, and his aura flickered just a tad more than usual.

“What do ya’ want?” Wilford groaned. He was tired of taking orders.

“I would like to see you in my office, actually.” Dark used his tone to his advantage, making himself sound powerful and fierce.

Wilford looked like a student who had just been busted for a class prank.

He looked around the room desperately as if there was someone else there to blame.

“Me?” He pointed a finger towards his chest.

Dark gave a nod.

In one swift motion Dark slammed the door shut and headed back into his office.

“What are we doing?!” A voice said through his mouth.

“I don’t know! It just–happened!” A female voice left his throat. His lips did not move.

The door opened.

Wilford walked in with suspicion. He was expecting some form of trap or trick.

Dark recollected himself.

“So uh…. What did you want to talk about?” Wilford checked the chair across from Dark’s desk before he sat down.

“Well, I’m worried about you, Wil.” Dark clasped his hands gently on the desk, “Your bad habits are becoming one of the more dominant features within your behavior,” Dark tilted his head, “I just want to help.”

“Okay,” Wilford was dragged in. He readjusted himself in his chair, making himself comfortable just as he was sure Dark persuaded. “What were you thinking about?”

“Why don’t you try remembering,” Dark’s sly tone began creeping into his voice. “Remember why you do what you do. Remember what caused you to go astray from the path you once walked.”

Wil was convinced for a moment. He sat in a daze as Dark’s voice washed over him like a cold breeze.

Then he snapped out of it.

“Now listen here,” Wilford stood up from the chair, shaking Dark’s voice out of his head. “I can’t let you do that to me,”

Dark was loosing his cool.

“What are you talking about?” Dark’s voice changed. But it wasn’t the deeper, more hypnotic voice. It became a much lighter version of the way he usually spoke. “I just want to reminisce,” He began sounding desperate, clawing at any remains of a broken past that he no longer wished to remember alone. “Like old friends.”

His voice was no longer his own. It was Damien’s.

“Can’t we just talk? We used to go on and on about your trials and tribulations in war, and our experiences, and our loves, and our losses!”

Damien reached.

Wil couldn’t reach that far.

“Why can’t you just remember William?!” His hand slammed on the desk. “All I want is for everything I lost to come back to me! I just want this back!”

Wilford stood up with a worried expression on his face.

He was planning on alerting the Googles, but he made a poor attempt of acting casual as he backed away towards the door.

“Wait!” Another voice interrupted.

It was a woman’s.

Dark’s lips hadn’t moved.

Wilford stopped dead in his tracks.

“Who was that?” He felt beads of sweat drip down his forehead.

Celine and Damien were both reaching now, both stretching their arms as far as their bodies would let them.

Their fingertips brushed against Wil’s. They tried to stretch forward even further.

The only problem is that Wilford was not ready to remember.

And he didn’t know if he ever would be.

“I said,” Wilford growled, “Who was that?” His hand reached for his pocket.

Dark’s mouth hung open for a moment.

“It was no one.” He replied calmly, “You probably just heard someone else yelling. You should probably go,” He hesitated for a moment before saying, “And forget about everything we just talked about.”

Dark’s aura flickered a few times.

Damien and Celine pulled their hands away.

Dark lost more of the color in his already grey skin.

This time Wilford let Dark persuade him, merely because he wanted to believe that the familiar but distant voice he just heard was nobody.

“Yeah,” Wilford let his hand hang at his side. “Yeah. You’re probably right,” He chuckled, “Well, I’ll be heading out.”

Dark gave a solemn nod as Wilford headed out the door.

Damien and Celine were forced to spend another lonely night together.

[bands-and-books]

[thats-the-teen-spirit]

me *sitting in front of my door for 8 hours*: where is the cute girl i was promised