monsters.

and his eyes would dash with excitement like a madman's peering at a morbid crime. he would press his fingers on her palms, carving fingerprints on the skin long enough to cause winding shades of plum whorls for a while. she would grab him by the shirt and drag him closer, thrusting his chest with her cheek-bone. he would chuckle, luring her closer to him, holding her tight by the shoulders. she'd inhale, letting his smell glide in, grinning. he'd pass by in silence for a few seconds more, then start releashing a bunch of crowded words bout nonsense perfect things.
it'd all begin on a wednesday, end on that wednesday, but going on forever, in front of the movies.