I keep a close watch on this heart of mine,
I keep my eyes wide open all the timep

Translucent wisps of gray smoke swam through the air lazily, hovering over the black disc spinning around its fixed trajectory on the record player. Meanwhile, the upbeat guitar strumming drowned out everything beyond the open window and filled the living room with a once-popular tune. He found his heel subconsciously tapping to it against the archaic hardwood floors. Sucking in another nicotine-laced breath, he broke the stare held on the ceiling for the past minute or so and shot a questioning glance toward the hallway, where flighty footsteps squeaked across the floor and a door clicked shut.
“If you don’t hurry up, I’m going without you.” He warned with an undeniable expression of amusement. Silence followed, in what could only be imagined as suppressed laughter. He put out the cigarette. The notion of the thousand things she would be up to was enough to pull him away from the counter and curiously approach the hallway. The bathroom, where she had said she’d be, was now dark and vacant while the opposing door to his bedroom was suspiciously closed. A smirk flashed across his lips. Real funny.
“I can’t think of one reason you need to be in there.” His words addressed the cracked wooden frame, leaning to hear the muffled sounds inside. God knows what she was up to. He surrendered to curiosity, turned the tarnished doorknob and peered in, falling to surprise when he saw nothing out of the ordinary. She wasn’t standing there, caught in the act of vandalizing his room or something along those lines. Eyebrows raised, he stepped in, expecting to find her hiding somewhere, when the sound of scurrying off came from behind him. Whipping around to catch a glimpse of her blonde hair flutter around the corner, he realized he should have checked behind the door first. Jogging in pursuit led him back into the living room, where she was smiling deviously against the wall, sporting his black t-shirt bearing the Jack Daniel’s identity.
“Cute.” He remarked sarcastically with a broad grin, while she was clearly entertained by the successful clothing heist she had pulled.
“You want it back?” She teased, the glint in her eyes daring him to come get it.
“Pfft. Like I care- you can go out and let everyone think you’re a perpetual alcoholic.” He remarked indifferently, but subtly edging forward all the same.
She laughed abruptly and shook her head.
“It’s your shirt, moron.”
She dodged to the side as he lunged forward, and made a dash for the couch. Their heavy footsteps were most certainly echoing down to the floor below and aggravating everyone in earshot. Only once they were both standing unsteadily on top of the piece of furniture was he able to grab her around the middle and haul the woman over his shoulder while she resisted and squirmed around. Her chuckling death threats did little to convince him otherwise, and he finally put her down in the middle of the floor at his own leisure. She gave him a playful punch to the shoulder while the cantering beat of music continued on from the record player.
“You ain’t getting this back.” She scoffed, grabbing his hands lightly and swinging them in a taunting fashion while he grinned back with narrowed eyes.
“Why’s that?”
She glanced upwards with a rogue smirk and echoed the words sung through disc just as it started to fade out. “Because you’re mine.”

I walk the line


(Try this on for size <3)