ooo. flames over the horizon
Angel likes to play with matches, rich fires dimly shaped against the moonlight as they skim across the trickling brown leaves of the forest, wood smoldering as the ashes breathe through the air. The smile sinks between her lips as she watches the grass splatter against the dirt (like paint on a canvas or blood on the wall), a feeling of relief crashing through her heart as she plays along with the burn marks stretched through her arms like ugly charcoal tattoos.
"Oh fuck Angel, isn't it beautiful?" Tod grins madly, raging ecstasy (but oh, maybe he's just crazy to put it bluntly) piled up on his throat, clogged up in his lungs like cancer and his eyes twinkle darkly, round marbles of cerulean, like a falling sky. Taking his hands in hers, Angel swings their arms back and forth, the hot scorch shifting closely to their skin and laughs, because Tod doesn't like to laugh. She laughs for the both of them (insane people laugh, he said, and I'm not insane.)
"Why do you still ask me questions you already know the answer to?" There's lack of question in her voice, and Tod turns his head limply to the side, the heavy locks of chestnut brown hair smudged across his face. He's a confused boy and kinda annoying too but Angel knows he needs her, even if he doesn't admit it ('I'm fine, I fine.' 'No - shit Tod, you're not fine. Your unstable and the world's crushing you, you're just another pawn in a cruel game you couldn't even begin to understand. They're going to put you back on the medication because you're not fine - fuck Tod, you're not even close to fucking fine, I'm just trying to protect you so shut up.' 'I don't think you're the one who should doing to protecting though Angel.')
"I - I -" Tod starts to stutter and Angel signs, the blazing smoke calming her down slowly. "Never mind Tod - never mind. Look at this—" With her big, callus fingers she points to the forest, like another part of mother nature dead, and soon everything's gonna be dead (remember to forget, forget to remember). "Soon everything's going to be like this, destroyed and demolished, like you Tod, like me, like us. Like a man-made apocalypse and everything's going to be a wasteland. Society and all this nature is disgusting." Angel sneers, Tod jutting his lips forward in a soft pout, the lush pink of his lips sweeping across his skin and he's so fucking beautiful sometimes (and Angel wants to see him burn, with the rest of the world, the demons hiding between her bones with sharp teeth and snake-skin but oh, she suppose to be protecting him.)
"Sometimes Angel, I think you're a monster. The whole world?" Tod whispers quietly, the invisible steam (or maybe it's more like reluctant fear) in his voice trickling below his chin like lighter fluid, and he knots his fingers closer together to Angel's, amazed by the bright, bright colors that seem to consume him (like an ugly, grotesque rainbow) and he's seen it so many times but he's still so amazed (and a little scared, because pretty-ugly-pretty things are scary.)
"Everybody's a monster Tod, I'm just better at showing it. Other people are just fakes, they're the ones you need to be scared of boy." Angel brushes her chapped, dry lips against his innocent raw cheeks, stitches of spilling scabs and blister stained on his baby skin. The sirens wail a few miles away, the hard sounds jagging into her ear lobes and Tod starts to tremble again, he never liked loud noises. "Come on Tod." Pulling on his arms them start to walk away, her steps slow and steady like theres nothing to be worried away.
I spent some of my day yesterday at Barnes & Nobles reading a book, and got inspired. I really seem to like post-apocalyptic fiction nowadays. This is suppose to be a sorta rewrite of my other story, pretty easy to tell which one, but I guess it didn't work out so well. Mhh, sorry for all the mistakes, my best friend use to beta for me but they kinda started hating me a few months ago. I'm too embarrassed to ask for another beta, so deal with it.