#nightbuzz

[aspirinqs]

@nightbuzz​​ / norm!

     “norman, with all of these jokes you make – from facetious to downright crass – it can become impossible for others to detect where your true feelings lie.” the operative word being others, so diane contends. it’s a rarity she’s able to speak with norman without another soul nearby to interject – usually clifford, or usually the flock around his usual stool. “i can imagine one might even muddle one’s own feelings that way. wouldn’t it feel much nicer for you to do away with them?”

[slashre]

her office is dark,   the door kept ajar to welcome in firefly - budded cold   :        there’s a rusty brick she keeps around just for this,   nudged forward little by little,    a wind slipping into their jumpers and between their fingers        (        charlie is not awash with moonlight         ...         she consumes it until it lights up the edges of her fingertips,   until she is nothing but a faint flicker of salvation         ).        ‘   no,   ’       she says,  carefully,   a blank slate of a blank voice.      she flicks a smile in his direction   :       she is not a charismatic powerhouse tonight.    there is something cold that lives in her gaze,   militant in its examination of the pictures.     CHARLIE IS RARELY A BUSINESSWOMAN.     she is a mask slipped clinically into place,    a woman staring into a mirror staring into a mirror staring into a mirror.      she echoes.        ‘   these are good.   they’re really based on my work?   ’       she cocks her head towards him,   refusing a smile.    the sole arbitrator of her attention         ...         she worships creation quietly.        ‘   you must be very talented.   ’

@nightbuzz         ...         reuben + charlie. ‘ i’ll make it up to you. ‘