{meet me in the summer
we can pretend nothing will change
come september}
we can pretend nothing will change
come september}
"I've been thinking, Azzy, I've been thinking again and holy shit have I ever come to some kind of conclusion."
Param shakes his spray can, the last red in his arsenal, and listens to the rattling of a few sprays left. Today is the day, he can feel it as he continues his downward arch, this is his last red's final hurrah. It's fitting. His favorite color used up on a design he's been obsessed with for weeks, constantly sketching out, perfecting, trying to figure out the dimensions, on a day that started off hot enough to burn you alive and ended like the first cannonball of summer into a lake that hasn't had any time to soak up the rays yet.
Ankle deep in stagnant water, invisible to the world under a bridge, Param wants to keep the softness of Azazel at his side forever. Midnight in Heaven's Crest isn't quiet, just muted. All the cars are far away as they roll over Param and Azazel's heads, the highway sleepy but trudging on a few feet above them. Streetlights turn everything orange above ground, but down here all they have is the cold moonlight reflected off the stream. Param likes the contrast it gives Azazel's face, the way it makes his eyes stand out.
"Maybe it's dumb-yeah it's probably dumb- but I just don't care anymore, you know? About any of it! Screw the system, man, screw it all! If I want to hang out with you, I want to hang out with you- it's not hard to process, is it?" Param shakes his red again, presses down and curses it when only dots appear, then tosses it aside and reaches for his white. Highlights, he guesses it's time to do the highlights. "I feel like I've known you, man, Azzy, I feel like I've known you forever or some shit. I know this is stupid, I can feel in my bones it's stupid as all Hell, but I'm freakin' at ease around you."
He breaks, digging through his shoulder bag and coming out with two cans of stolen beer. He lobs the one to Azazel and cracks the other open for himself, taking a long swig and trying not to taste it.
"Like this is meant to be. This whole summer, us meeting up and saying Screw It and going around together. Yeah. It was meant to happen."
Param shakes his spray can, the last red in his arsenal, and listens to the rattling of a few sprays left. Today is the day, he can feel it as he continues his downward arch, this is his last red's final hurrah. It's fitting. His favorite color used up on a design he's been obsessed with for weeks, constantly sketching out, perfecting, trying to figure out the dimensions, on a day that started off hot enough to burn you alive and ended like the first cannonball of summer into a lake that hasn't had any time to soak up the rays yet.
Ankle deep in stagnant water, invisible to the world under a bridge, Param wants to keep the softness of Azazel at his side forever. Midnight in Heaven's Crest isn't quiet, just muted. All the cars are far away as they roll over Param and Azazel's heads, the highway sleepy but trudging on a few feet above them. Streetlights turn everything orange above ground, but down here all they have is the cold moonlight reflected off the stream. Param likes the contrast it gives Azazel's face, the way it makes his eyes stand out.
"Maybe it's dumb-yeah it's probably dumb- but I just don't care anymore, you know? About any of it! Screw the system, man, screw it all! If I want to hang out with you, I want to hang out with you- it's not hard to process, is it?" Param shakes his red again, presses down and curses it when only dots appear, then tosses it aside and reaches for his white. Highlights, he guesses it's time to do the highlights. "I feel like I've known you, man, Azzy, I feel like I've known you forever or some shit. I know this is stupid, I can feel in my bones it's stupid as all Hell, but I'm freakin' at ease around you."
He breaks, digging through his shoulder bag and coming out with two cans of stolen beer. He lobs the one to Azazel and cracks the other open for himself, taking a long swig and trying not to taste it.
"Like this is meant to be. This whole summer, us meeting up and saying Screw It and going around together. Yeah. It was meant to happen."
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