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✧∭✧∰✧∭✧ 31st, August 2023 ✧∭✧∰✧∭✧
The sun had barely started to peek through the curtains when Agastya’s eyes flitted open, a feeling of dread settling in the pit of his stomach. He reached down to where his prosthetic leg should have been charging overnight—because, even after all these years of course he’d forget—he was met with a cold and unresponsive metal. Swearing under his breath, he cursed himself for forgetting to plug it in before bed.
Dragging himself out of bed, Agastya made his way to the kitchen, the early morning light filtering through the ornate stained glass windows of his Gothic-inspired Airbnb. As he brewed himself a cup of strong black coffee, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding hanging over him like a dark cloud.
Sitting down at his desk, Agastya picked up his fountain pen and a leather-bound journal, the pages already filled with his elegant script from the day before. Poetry flowed effortlessly from his mind onto the paper, each word carefully chosen and full of emotion.
As the morning turned into afternoon, Agastya found himself lost in the world of his own creation, the worries of the day temporarily pushed to the back of his mind. But as the sun began to set, the dread began to creep back in.
College was starting up again soon, and while Agastya was excited to be back on campus and immersed in his studies, he couldn’t shake the nervousness that came with it. The certain campus hookups that had left him breathless and wanting more replayed in his mind, his great etiquette no match for the tangled web of emotions that came with them.
As he closed his journal for the day, Agastya couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease settle over him, the shadows of the room growing darker as night fell.
✧∭✧∰✧∭✧ 1st, September 2023 ✧∭✧∰✧∭✧
The mirror reflected back an image of a man clad in a white tuxedo top, with black pants that seemed to absorb all light around them.
As he fastened the intricate mask to his face, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of power and mystery coursing through his veins. The gold chains hanging down with pearls and jewels glistened in the dim light, a reflection of the tears that had been shed in past years. It matched his prosthetic leg, a testament to the battles he had fought and the obstacles he had overcome.
As he made his way to the grand ballroom, the world around him seemed to shift and warp, taking on a darker, more gothic tone. Lavish drapes hung from the ceiling, casting shadows that seemed to dance and swirl in the ethereal lighting that bathed the room in a haunting glow. The decorations that adorned the walls and tables evoked the spirit of the founders’ era, a time long past but never forgotten. Agastya felt a sense of reverence and awe as he entered the room, the weight of the history and tradition that surrounded him pressing down on his chest.
“Apology accepted, though I must say, your gown is far too stunning to be worried about a little shoe mishap,” Agastya replied, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He couldn’t even feel it. Literally. Her dark pink gown hugged her figure in a heavenly manner, and he couldn’t help but be mesmerized by her beauty.
As she mentioned their previous encounter, Agastya’s mind raced in an attempt to place her face. He had a feeling he had met her before, but the memory eluded him. “Well, if your brain is fried from champagne, then mine must be completely scrambled,” Agastya said with a chuckle, raising his glass of champagne in a salute.
“Well, if we have met before, it’s definitely a pleasure to see you again.” Agastya set his glass down on a passing waitress tray. “Care to dance and maybe jog my memory?” With a twinkle in his eye, Agastya extended his hand towards the lady, excited to spend the evening in her enchanting company.
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@Mouschi • Deven • ORP ahhhhdbfkfn!! 
