after closing time.

[13th.livejournal.com]

[a certain someone has found a room in the basement now, claiming it his home. the floor is partially made of cement partially made of sand. the walls are bricked and cinder, haphazardly cemented together and the smell of mildew hangs in the air. all he needs is that familiar rush and whistle, the caution tape and the blood splattered all over the walls and floors and it'd be just like home.

there he sits in an abandoned little corner, snug as a bug with oblivion in his lap.]