location. ⁺her apartment.
"have you ever written a song for someone ? a few cheesy lines," strummed out with the hopes of sweeping them off their feet. "—be honest—did it ever work ?" clover’s eyes narrowed with curiosity, mischief dancing at the edges. she’d spent most of the morning holed up in rylee’s basement, trying to help the older woman grasp something entirely out of her depth. "like… you smell so sweet, after this line i’m a drop this beat… straight to your heart." her cheeks puffed with air before she burst into laughter, the sound cracking through the stillness of the room. "god, that’s awful."
there was always a quiet amusement she found in herself, an easy ability to laugh at her own absurdity. clover fell back to lay sprawled on the worn couch, the fabric sinking beneath her weight, swallowing her into its embrace. across the room, her guitar rested in its case, tucked in the corner like a forgotten relic. the instrument had lost its electricity, rendered useless against the nonworking plugs of arcadia. she’d already been floating, moving from place to place, living out of her car. lucky enough to arrive with more than just the clothes on her back.
@flcnnerys . // closed starter