Discover Top Posts Tagged with #caustxc

Popular Recent

larcenistic started following you

caustxc started following you

It's been a while since I've gotten some new followers :D Hello!

#larcenistic #caustxc

caustxc replied to your audio post

Are you for real.

u tell me, big boy

#caustxc #LOL

You sit yourself down on his couch and, incredibly, you feel like you're in your element again. The feel of the fabric, the smell of his house -- he'd just been cooking -- his familiar face, more unshaven than usual; it all coalesces to your comfort, whether or not you want to admit it.

You place your violin case carefully on the carpet and draw your legs up onto the cushions, peering at him intently. Your concert can wait. "So, what was it--"

You reach out suddenly to tug at a strand of hair above his lip. "You need to shave."

And resume immediately. "--What was it like?"

A vague question, and you know it. It could pertain to several things, all of which you want to hear the answer to: How did it feel to be on a road trip? What did you do? What's it like being around so many people you knew from back then?

But you'll start gently. As hungry for knowledge as you are, you're still happy to see him. So you lean in and against the couch cushions, feet resting casually against his thigh.

#caustxc

[ Text => Big Jerk ]: Hi. Are you back yet?

[ Text => Big Jerk ]: I want to hear stories about your strange friends. I also learned something new on violin and I want to show off.

#caustxc #(sound of anka being quietly giddy in the distance)

you're passed out in the back seat -- and with good reason, as you've assured everyone present about five times over -- hange's vice grip coupled with the unpleasant events of the previous night have seriously interfered with your sleep.

so you nap on the seat, letting the bob and sway of the van and the warmth of the sun through the window lull you into a light sleep...

you don't even notice that they've stopped at first, but you can vaguely hear them chattering, greeting someone -- an unfamiliar voice, but it makes the hair on your arms stand on end.

Erwin.

you shut your eyes tight and pretend to be asleep. you think that if you pretend hard enough, you might just slip blissfully out of consciousness. you don't need this; not again. quietly, you check your phone, observe the dash. you're not sure if you can stomach the waves of painful familiarity at the moment, but there's that new one. that woman.

you reply to her, ask her offhandedly if she's been to your hometown because you think you may know her and it makes you feel very warm. talking to her -- annoying though she may be -- reminds you of days spent contentedly prowling the city you grew up in, of familiarity, of home. it's odd; you don't think too much about it.

finally, you rise, scratching at your hair with practiced false-disinterest. "What'd I miss?"