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Fix me - 10 Years

I'm fine in the fire I feed on the friction I'm right where I should be Don't try and fix me

#Guts' shitty answers #im always ashamed of my choices #tuncdomina

our strange duet ;

Leisurely are the hours that trickle by, the brisk buss of eventide peppering the citizens whom trek about on their journeys home. Rays peer over the horizon whilst streetlamps flicker, seeping through the panes of window which permit onlooker to admire each passing figure which floats with poise in their rehearsal. One woman stands among them, carmine garments draping over such a petite frame whilst palms press upon her protruding hip. Censorious is her mien, viridescent hues closing in the deliverance of a single, dissatisfied breath.

❝Is there no finesse to these steps? Can you not master, so simply, this choreography? Synchronize, become one amidst each other in this display of your talent, lack not passion! A mere mishandle of colorant ruins such artwork, brimming with pulchritude, upon the canvas.❞ Vocables bark the notions of their practices that weigh upon this artistical mind. Swift does she wave aside the musician whom sits before the piano, commanding he cease his keystrokes in her motion of stepping forward.

Several eyes accumulate where she stands, observing delicate digits slip upon the waist. Beneath her grasp is a woman of darkened hair, the one hailed the star of this theatrical piece opposite her very own role. ❝Erratic you are, fluent you must become,❞ she coos, applying minuscule pressure to undulate an exemplary display for the others to become educated. Running bare fingers along the skin she bares, she retreats to the sidelines once more in vehement anticipation.