i can paint a picture of you in my mind / @partyscver .
⁺ 𝑶 › he had spent a majority of the night hyper-vigilant of her existence. every turn of her head in his direction ( whether intentional or not ) he’d been aware, too much so that he was sure he was driving serena crazy with his antics ; the shifts in his demeanor, the awkward slouching of his posture that would suddenly shoot straight up, the hand that hovered much too close, far too often to be considered the act he promised his mother he’d play for tonight. surely, these coincidences couldn’t be anything more than that -- but deep down, ozzy knew they were far more intentional than they appeared. they were far too rigid to be seen as just casual. the more he acted like he was ‘ alright ’ , the more fucked up he felt. and with ten minutes to the countdown, he was exhausted, a good chunk of him already liquored up, and was still all the more aware of her : so finely dressed, a sight that truly kept his breath stilled the moment his eyes had settled upon her at the beginning of the night. he hadn’t been able to rip his eyes away ever since.