blurry eyeliner. cursed mirrors. static love poems. x3
"i’d haunt the sun if it made you smile. swear to god. swear to hell. swear to me. xD"
the mirror in here is cracked—on purpose. each shard reflects a different version of him. in one, he’s laughing. in another, he’s crying. in the last, he’s looking right at you.
ash never left. not really. his boots are still by the door. his gloves still smell like campfire and old perfume. the room hums with radio fuzz, and if you turn the dial just right, you’ll hear his voice. ranting. flirting. defending someone he loved too much. x3
posters peel. glitter clings to the air. time warps around his memory like it's trying to hold him tighter. xD
you can be soft here. nobody’s watching.