#c:ester

[octaeviasblake]

open starter

   ----            ugh no lo sé, un americano supongo’ anunció mientras pedía su café, observando la tabla de sabores y gustos que había en aquél sitio. ‘lo más común que tengas.’

[jamesplatt-blog]

james & ester || high skies

  @estersghosttopia​

      THE ANIMALS were quiet and that was what he found jarring. James sat on the front steps of the Art House at half past ten in the evening and for an early September night, there should have been frogs croaking, owls hooting, and crickets chirping. Maybe a distant wolf’s howl. But nothing but the silence of the night and the air expanding and contracting in his lungs greeted his ears. Hazel eyes stared up at the night sky, counting stars as fingers absently packed his bowl to the brim with bud. It was rare that he smoked now, the habit he’d once gotten carried away with for too long but had mostly been given up since he became crunchy granola. Health was more important and it tended to make him unfocused. 

      But there were exceptions to every rule. 

     James brought the mouthpiece to his lips and inhaled as the lighter ignited skunky bud orange, a flicker of light in the dark night. He inhaled a breath, held it for several counts, and then exhaled a cloud of smoke.

     Nearby, a dark figure that walked too slowly to spike his blood pressure appeared. That wasn’t the same thing he’d seen twice now, once with the professor and once with Lizz; but it appeared they were coming towards him. It was definitely human, a thought that caused him to laugh at himself. As the figure got closer, he noticed long hair curtaining a round, feminine face, and James tilted his head as he lit up again. 

      “Hey!” he exhaled smoke as he spoke. “You look lost. Need some help?” He would have gotten up but he was comfortable and THC was already clouding his senses, making him warm and fuzzy around the edges.