#hsdghshdg

[serophaned]

❝ dude, it smells like henway in here. ❞    he holds back a snicker that threatens to follow, shoulders dropping as the lilt of his voice proves successful in betraying the immense amusement he finds in the setup of such an innocent joke.     ❝ am i right? doesn’t it smell like henway in here? ❞

[serophaned]

There's something sweet in the sight - in a rainbow-feathered bird, nestling & hopping about on dark, s e v e r e shoulders belonging to a creature absent of colour in all its forms. A bright, bouncing beam of light fiddling & fluttering in inky, s l e e k black hair as the girl on his hammock laughs ( bird-like, beaming in her own right ) - tattooed fingers ruffle feathers & chittering noises at the little bird, the best of friends. After all, lovebirds often did come in p a i r s.

there’s an air of  peace  that takes over when it’s just them.  just her.  gone were the first responder’s piercing sirens, the endless interrogations and slaps on the wrist for breaking curphew – gogo’s own rush of concern and sero’s gentle assurances were long exchanged- certain words remain unsaid    ( between them, what was even left? )    and so a lull falls over any remaining conversation; it’s not by any means uncomfortable —- sero finds solice in the crooning of songs made of chirps and coos and chuckles. they’re content, unneeding for change.

a dull  ‘ THUD ‘  sounds as sero rests his head against the headboard, uninjured arm  pulling  and  releasing  the tape that is attached to the edge of the hammock in steady sways. his other arm – wrapped and casted – lay still at his side, ITCHY and BOTHERSOME but thanks to recovery girl, better off than it should have been. the weight of the hammock more than calms him, however —- serving as a gentle reminder of what was almost lost.  almost missed.   there sounds a ruffling of feathers, a light  c h a t t e r  ;  playful  in its nature, and a reverent grin is split upon bruised lips and aching cheeks. 

he listens to his  ‘ lovebirds ‘  living in their own little world,  f a r  away from monsters and villains, heroes and vigilantes —- and even away from himself —-a  depressing  concept which is met with a childish pout tossed her way, while gogo cackles and reminds him that  “lovebirds should never be separated,” ; the boy wants to argue, but instead falls silent in the sudden  w a r m t h  that comes from the hidden promise of her staying. 

there’s a swell in the pit of his stomach, and a little higher- maybe his kidneys? lungs? perhaps it’s  heartburn  that throbs in his chest as he looks to  HER  and  HER SMILE  and the utter  GENTLENESS  in which she handles the ave in her care. the swinging slows and he stares at her. she looks up and his heartburn grows tenfold. it’s how it always is: one look and sero is back to the flustered, blubbering fool he always is when it comes to  gogo.  no ambush in the world could ever catch him off guard the way she does, he realizes – so as his heart burns through his chest, he figures there’s nothing else it could be.

 ❝ i’m —- in lesbians with you.. ❞

if only he could die right then of heart failure.