04-23-2009, 12:21 AM
[html]
[/html]
After leaving his father and forgetting his purpose, Bane had spent a short period of time with a group of youths who had no reason to live but to find creative ways to die. She made him recall these days of his early teenage years, and the nostalgia was a strange taste on his tongue. He had experimented enough with a variety of things -- drugs or not -- and accepted her offer with an intense curiosity. There were some things you only learned about people when they were too far gone to hide. She reminded him of someone he had known once. Shortly thereafter, the partially drunk and undeniably high Bane surveyed the street with eyes that were fogged around the edges, even through the glasses. He stood and took them off, leaving them on top of a mailbox on the corner. He wasn't three steps from her, revelling in his experience he hadn't allowed himself for a good amount of time. The morphine he was used to. It was like breathing. This was like breathing when you had been suffocating for so long. He smiled at her, his eyes vague, but the intensity still hid there behind the clear sky-blue his mother had given him. "Ever driven a car before?" His conscious mind was barely aware of the things he was saying. It was idle conversation, to pass the time until he refused to control himself any longer. His eyes weren't focused on her face, but rather the more appealing parts of her body. He knew she would probably notice, but no part of him actually cared. |