11· noche

you're up at midnight - the clock says so, scouting the darkened, ink black sky with your eyes, searching for that someone, who could be saved. the fog runs over your jeans, tainting the midnight blue, and numbing your senses. you look from side to side, wondering how long it'd take, to run across the streets, before dawn begins to hit. "darlin' don't do that. You might just find the night creatures to pretty to ever leave." but that's exactly the reason you left.