(no subject)
Dunno what it's for.. that part isn't important yet.
"I like guys who like lavender. Perhaps it’s a bit peculiar but I realized Taylor would become a matter of interest sometime between washing my face and drying it with the soft, blue towel hung up in front of the toilet. Then, in a moment of retrospect, I found myself tracing the pathway of sensation until the cause of the revelation became clear.
Must’ve been the shampoo-conditioner set, I reckon. There upon the high rack in the shower rested a lavender-themed hair care duo amidst a bathroom that reeked of “dude”. Upon further reflection, I realized my targeting may have been afflicted by a personal preference for the scent and that I had spent an unnecessarily-long amount of time in the bathroom.
I returned the bathroom to its original state before exiting into the very simple, very bachelor bedroom. There was a mattress on the floor, a desk with a clock radio, and simple night stands that served only to dispense pocket change and condoms… oh, and to provide a base for a desk lamp that tried rather pathetically to illuminate the room. This was all seen before, though, and held little interest compared to the racket from the living room that had been momentarily dulled by the tiled walls. Now the sensation was shaking the walls more clearly, becoming more defined the closer I moved to the closed bedroom door. Foremost, there was a particularly-varied spectrum of gunfire shook the partitions before screams and crashes took hold and joined forces to penetrate the entire atmosphere of the apartment. All the while, I was called forth with curiosity.
I opened the bedroom door slowly, mindful of any skittering about nearby, before stepping out to investigate the coming specifics. The gunfire got louder and louder as I neared but I needed much more than that to slow me. I grew closer… closer still…
Until, rather suddenly, an abrupt new sound shook me to my core. A few quickly-paced and deliberate thuds against the living room wall that came from the other side may have had an unseen cause, but in no way was a mystery. It was the familiar 9PM reminder that first-person shooters played over the surround sound annoyed cranky neighbors. Taylor and Carlson sighed before pressing a few buttons and returning the night’s activities down to a dull roar...."
"I like guys who like lavender. Perhaps it’s a bit peculiar but I realized Taylor would become a matter of interest sometime between washing my face and drying it with the soft, blue towel hung up in front of the toilet. Then, in a moment of retrospect, I found myself tracing the pathway of sensation until the cause of the revelation became clear.
Must’ve been the shampoo-conditioner set, I reckon. There upon the high rack in the shower rested a lavender-themed hair care duo amidst a bathroom that reeked of “dude”. Upon further reflection, I realized my targeting may have been afflicted by a personal preference for the scent and that I had spent an unnecessarily-long amount of time in the bathroom.
I returned the bathroom to its original state before exiting into the very simple, very bachelor bedroom. There was a mattress on the floor, a desk with a clock radio, and simple night stands that served only to dispense pocket change and condoms… oh, and to provide a base for a desk lamp that tried rather pathetically to illuminate the room. This was all seen before, though, and held little interest compared to the racket from the living room that had been momentarily dulled by the tiled walls. Now the sensation was shaking the walls more clearly, becoming more defined the closer I moved to the closed bedroom door. Foremost, there was a particularly-varied spectrum of gunfire shook the partitions before screams and crashes took hold and joined forces to penetrate the entire atmosphere of the apartment. All the while, I was called forth with curiosity.
I opened the bedroom door slowly, mindful of any skittering about nearby, before stepping out to investigate the coming specifics. The gunfire got louder and louder as I neared but I needed much more than that to slow me. I grew closer… closer still…
Until, rather suddenly, an abrupt new sound shook me to my core. A few quickly-paced and deliberate thuds against the living room wall that came from the other side may have had an unseen cause, but in no way was a mystery. It was the familiar 9PM reminder that first-person shooters played over the surround sound annoyed cranky neighbors. Taylor and Carlson sighed before pressing a few buttons and returning the night’s activities down to a dull roar...."