Post by ariesalvarez on Aug 4, 2011 19:54:29 GMT -6
He really shouldn't have his feet up on the couch, but the leather of the couch's arm is too soft against his neck. Leather is normally rubbery and rather hard when it's uncared for, but when it's polished every once in a while it becomes soft as silk. The tufts of hair behind his head seem to prickle his skin a bit. He shifts and the material squeaks a bit. His eyes stare upward, through the brown and spiky locks of hair hanging, seemingly, overhead. Today he's gone for a less sophisticated look. A summer of fixing old cars, running through sprinkler soaked lawns and of burning sun kissing his skin has left him wanting. His hair is reaching upwards and outwards, shining with the sheen of a small layer of hairspray. The swirl of hair that reaches out from atop of his forehead seems taunting.
Dalton isn't stiffing. There's too much activity for it to become mundane, but it doesn't have the same quality as summer. Aries can feel the seconds passing by with each tick of the large clock at one side of the room. He can almost see the figure of the damn thing in the shine of his new shoes. Summer is fleeting. He's still burned from the rays spreading onto his skin, and his hip still aches slightly from landing sideways in a pool. The aches and stings and pains are all bothersome memories of swift moments. The middle of, not a beginning and an end, but an inverted story. May ends in celebration, as the conquering young men of the school flee from it's premises to their waiting families. They can't help it. After a while, Dalton becomes home, but home becomes paradise.
"Aren't we all longing for the escape?" Aries thinks as he crosses his legs, stretching one arm out while wiggling his fingers.
The end of another semester combined with the finale of another year. It's only two months until the next begins. The heat has settled well among Westerville in June; it is shooed away by the ever teasing breezes and the random rains of summer. It's kept at bay by the joyous laughter of adolescents running from water guns. July is spent with family; barbecues are as regular as Sunday church mass. They all talk about the future, about the whens and hows because, in the Alvarez family, everything is inevitable.
Just like that, August rolls around and classes loom in the horizon. New uniforms are fitted in, and book lists checked thrice. Summer rolls away, a mere memory, and Fall arrives, it's beauty marred by the desire for the passing season.
Aries is prepared for the new season. It doesn't mean he'll like it.
"You've got yourself things that you've been running from. You either love it or I guess you don't." Brendon Urie's voice fills the empty hall, louder than you'd expect from a small, portable Ipod-compatible speaker.
Most of the boarding students are out on the town trying to hold to the last dregs of summer. Day students wouldn't be caught in the school for non-academic reasons. So, Aries lies on a black, well-polished leather sofa and listens to Panic! At the Disco play in the background.
"Maybe I could get the guys to sign off on this song. It'd be a killer opening act."
The song continues and the beat quickens. His body reacts, forgetting the muffled tune of his mind and itching to the current vibrations in the air. By the second verse he's sitting straight. He hums the end of it.
During the second chorus he's singing out loud, staring at the Warblers banner over the mantlepiece.
"I think I'm ready, I think I'm more ready, I know." The bridge is always his favorite part and he sings it without care, twirling to the beat of the song, has splayed out at his sides.
It's the music that always keeps the sadness away. Summer always ends, but the music ties him over.
WORDS! 655
STATUS! complete
TAGS! [0/2] people
NOTES! Aries first post.
INSPIRATION! The Killers
CREDITS! Template Byarro @ Caution!
LYRICS! Mr Brightside by The Killers
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