I Want to Write a Story With You
Okay so I want to write a story with my favourite person and it’s my birthday soon and you know I’m just not feeling a virtual holiday...
So I request you write this story with me Mr Chagrined
Shall I go first? I know you like to let me lead you until the moment I get all weird and needy
I’ll go first.
He watched her through the haze of smoke with a bewildered grin. She had seen him of course. Stood by the piano tapping his hand against its mahogany body like he knew at least a little about rhythm. He thought she looked so assured and confident, repainting her lips the hottest shade of red without the hint of a blush upon her pallored cheeks.
Perhaps she was waiting for someone.
She didn’t look the kind of girl to be alone.
But no one came.
She knocked back her tumbler of something on the rocks. He noticed her face show the briefest discomfort as though she wasn’t really used to the hard stuff.
Next she pulled out a cigarette and opened those red lips like she had been waiting all day to let the nicotine send her head into a spin. But as she reached for the book of matches inside her carton of cigarettes, she found she must have struck the last one already.
Funny how it was then that her cheeks began to blush.
So I request you write this story with me Mr Chagrined
Shall I go first? I know you like to let me lead you until the moment I get all weird and needy
I’ll go first.
He watched her through the haze of smoke with a bewildered grin. She had seen him of course. Stood by the piano tapping his hand against its mahogany body like he knew at least a little about rhythm. He thought she looked so assured and confident, repainting her lips the hottest shade of red without the hint of a blush upon her pallored cheeks.
Perhaps she was waiting for someone.
She didn’t look the kind of girl to be alone.
But no one came.
She knocked back her tumbler of something on the rocks. He noticed her face show the briefest discomfort as though she wasn’t really used to the hard stuff.
Next she pulled out a cigarette and opened those red lips like she had been waiting all day to let the nicotine send her head into a spin. But as she reached for the book of matches inside her carton of cigarettes, she found she must have struck the last one already.
Funny how it was then that her cheeks began to blush.
