Cater to Me

VIII. Purity

✧ written while listening to b*tches broken hearts by Billie (my girl). ✧

VIII. Purity

Julian lurched forward, panting and covered in sweat. His fears roamed in his nightmares, torturing him: vivid colors of blood and expressions of terror ravaged his mind. Yeah, he considered himself haunted.

It had been a few days since the last one, so he thought he was in the clear. Obviously, he was wrong. Over the last few days, he felt disconnected from the scars he carried daily. He kept busy at work in order to avoid pitfalls, but anyone could tell you that's a temporary fix. He knew that himself.

Going back to sleep was a bust, so instead, he laid there collecting himself. For the last few days, Celeste vanished like a ghost, erasing her presence. It had been almost a week since they last talked, and it ate Julian up more than he liked to admit. "It's not like we're dating."

But he wanted to, and that was the problem.

They hadn't done anything nearly interesting since they met, but every moment was better than the last. Every minute was an eternity.

Sheer thirst took him to his kitchen where he drank a glass of water, standing in nearly complete darkness. After shuffling around in the darkness for a bit, he flipped on a lamp next to his suede dark navy-blue, l-shaped couch. The soft light crept around the room leaving cold, black shadows within its corners. His vision was still blurry so he opted out on the bright fluorescent ones above him in the kitchen.

In the corner of his eye, he spotted his crystal decanter full of whisky and set of glasses. The dark thoughts that crossed his mind forced him to lean his elbows on the kitchen counter and place his head in his cupped hands. The tips of his fingers lightly ran down his face as he let out a groan.

"Fuck it."

And then the decanter was in his right hand with a shot glass in the other.

***

Dominic held his new medical card up triumphantly.

"After that terrible car accident, I have it. Took an infinite amount of time? Yup. Too expensive for my taste? Extra." Celeste raised an eyebrow as he kissed it and a smile lit up his face.

"Yeah. You're definitely extra."

"I have some granddaddy purple. It's good for neck and back pain. It's known to help with insomnia, and I can attest. I'm knocked out about an hour after I smoke it." He shrugged with a joint between his fingers.

The sun lowered and lowered whilst surrounding itself in bundles of dark blues and violets. The clouds themselves seemed to serve as a sign a storm was brewing, occasionally overshadowing the sun. Celeste and Dominic were sitting on the patio, overlooking the traffic that stopped at the corner light.

"So what's going on with this guy. You chickening out? You've been quiet since you got here." He lit it and blew out. Dominic and Celeste met when he was taking one of his many journeys: it was safe to say culinary school wasn't meant for him. Since then he went from being to a personal trainer to an artist.

"Hey, I don't talk about your shit all the time." She defended, attempting to redirect the conversation. Truth be told, she wasn't ready to get to the bottom of why she fled. It was an uncomfortable topic she avoided.