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001. every story is a song // open post.
Take a prompt, take some time, drop in whenever you like.
Take a prompt, take some time, drop in whenever you like.
Take a prompt, take some time, drop in whenever you like.
Take a prompt, take some time, drop in whenever you like.
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[Leaning in, because he wants to show Josh that he means it. Besides, that allows him to say such a thing without having to shout it out, and it IS rather dark in Haven right now beyond all the flashing lights.]
This is really fun.
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Maybe it's the song that's currently playing, maybe it's the booze or the way, even in the dim light of the club, there's just something about Rethe that... shines. He'd watched him up there, lost in the rhythm and ebb of music, has been around Haven enough times before to see the way Rethe just sort of... gives over. It leaves a body speechless, and there had never been an evening when Josh had left to head back to the dorms that he hadn't felt how Rethe's music had made him feel a little less lost.
He's leaning in before he knows it, mouth pressing a kiss to the corner of Rethe's. ]
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Okay. That was completely unexpected, and definitely changed the way things were going. Rethe pulls back almost immediately, smile disappearing, eyes looking at Josh with surprise, confusion and concern.]
Um.
[What does one say when something like this happens? It's easy when he gets it from the random, bold stranger or the admiring fan, but...]
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Joshua Lee Brennan, what the hell are you doing?!??
He's as stunned over his own behavior as he is sobered up by the way Rethe pulls back, and it is something Josh can hardly miss -- the smile gone, concern in his eyes and a look he can only peg down as what just happened.
He steps away as if to give them both a little more room, the back of his neck incredibly warm. ] Rethe, I-- [ what could he possibly say? ]
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Smiling now, a little tentatively. Let's set everything else aside first, especially since he can more than handle himself. This was all a mistake, for sure. Josh is drunk, maybe confused, maybe lonely. No need to make it worse.]
It's okay. Maybe you should go home, though.
[Get some rest? Sleep it off? Recalibrate?]
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[ He can't look at Rethe now, and he digs his hands into the pockets of his Rhiannon uniform, feeling the flush creep around from the back of his neck to his face.
Thank God, it's dark.
His movements are awkward and he steps away from the bar, finds that there's a slight lag in the way he processes the movement. Fuck. What the hell did he drink?
Of course, his gaze wanders over to the bottle he'd purchased. ]
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[Rethe trailed off, and looked on a little helplessly as the Sin-Eater left. Should he try to go after him? If he did, though, what could he possibly do to help?
The Malice King bit his lip, and eventually forced himself to turn away.
This was going to be hard.]