Life is Funny Like That

Thyrtee-wun. Love-Sickness, a Lethal Disease

a seventeen-year-old, singing his heart out in his basement. how much more infp can you get? little did he know, he would be married and eventually have two kids...

our last chapter for this book. i'mma cry

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: A month or two later :
Sometime during the aesthetic part of Summer, whenever that is... maybe late August? When it's so hot, you almost melt and maybe that's considered aesthetic? But only if you're super hawt and then it counteracts how sweaty and red-faced you get from the literal heat and you still look hot cuz you have good genes or something, and sweaty, hot people are apparently attractive and whatnot but i think that's debatable-okay i'm done.

The dirty, fingerprinted broom handle leans against the counter, smothered in the buttery afternoon sun. Adrian leans over the bar, his elbows propped on top. The sun caresses his back, a gray shirt with a silly pun on the front. It shines over the shaggy, overgrown hair, the color of nutella taking over the silver tips. They glisten in the light, giving way to his natural color ever so slowly. There is no plan to re-dye since the day he saw his father's face in the hospital, gray and sunken. After the whole phone incident, after his dad went home with a newfound reason to change, they didn't feel worlds apart anymore. Perhaps there was common ground after all.

Life has come to a turn, a new page. The slate is wiped clean and it's time to start afresh. And the reminder that he isn't his dad isn't needed anymore. So the silver bids its goodbye, shining in striking contrast with his dark locks.

Noel's voice fills the spaces around Kimmy's as he loiters in the kitchen after his pie delivery. They decided that he could deliver from now on, just not saying that he is the one who makes them. A livelier air is drizzled upon the scene every time Noel makes an appearance. Which is often these days. He only comes to follow Kimmy around, bugging her to high heaven but the whole staff can see the glint in her eyes when she isn't glaring at him. A pair, aged like fine wine or Tom Cruise. Better and better, the more time that passed with them. It was admirable and awestriking to see how they've molded each other, taking characteristics from each other and sharing them. Kimmy showed a different side of herself around her other half.

Amidst the colliding voices and bustling customers, Adrian stares at the origami rabbit nestled in his hand. So easily, he could curl his fingers and crush the delicate shape. His fingertips brush the profile of the ears, traveling down the spine to the tail end.

Memories of when he and Benny made them together while he steeped in his misery surface. How silly.

This little rabbit reminds him of Daffy. Everything reminds him of Daffy, these days. The smallest of things somehow always lead back to her. It's simultaneously annoying and delightful.

His smile grabs his cheeks as he lets her face fill every corner of his mind. Placing the bunny on the counter, he turns to lean against the bar, supported by his elbows. He carelessly closes his eyes to the sunshine.

Shadows fall over him as people pass by the window, and a slow 80's song drifts among the fluorescent lights with the flies dancing along the ceiling and soft laughter of a table surrounded by gray-haired men, drinking coffee and avoiding their wives.

The song is kind of terrible and cliché, but why does he agree with the repetitive lyrics? It feels like a betrayal to his younger self when he swore to never like 80's pop because of so many  reasons that he can't really remember for some reason.