By the things I thought I’d put away
And I'm all surrounded
By the things I thought I’d put away
And there’s a pile in the closet
That’s where I threw some yesterday
Maybe under the rug
That’s where I swept some the other day
So the mess is drawing forces
Outside I hear them say
Just come out with your hands up
So we can blow you away
And I walk out the door
Get blown wide open
By the things I’d put away
And I wasn’t even warned
Just blown wide open
By the mess is where I lay
So I'm all surrounded
By the things I thought I’d put away
So I'm all surrounded
By the things I thought I’d put away
And if I’m a slob
I never looked at it that way
Irresponsible
When you’re not the first to say
But I told her I’m sorry
I never wanted it this way
Yeah, I still need her
But the mess won’t go away
And I walk the door
Get blown wide open
By the things I’d put away
And I’m out on the porch
Just blown wide open
By the mess is where I lay
Yeah, blown wide open
Blown wide open
The gun’s still smoking
Blood keeps flowing
Blown wide open
Why’s she going
All surrounded
The sky was white when the stranger fell from it. Thankfully, only a homeless man saw, and promptly fell back into his drunken sleep as the black clad figure brushed his long jacket off and shakily stood up. Inhaling deeply, he knew the smell of the city, but he hadn't been able to smell a thing for almost 50 years. For 50 years he had been ash, and now something had gathered those small fragile particles back together and intertwined them to form the same person he had been 50 years ago. The hair was the same, colourfully streaked and soft to the touch. The manner of dress was the same, modern gothisizm with a definitively playful edge. But his name escaped him, as did the city he was in, or why he had fallen from the sky and landed with a thud in the alley. Even more puzzling was why it hadn't hurt him at all.
Gabrielle sighed, resting her head on edge's lap, looking up at him. He smiled down at her, brushing a strand of newly blackened hair.
"So you do like it?" She asked warily, as he rolled his eyes.
"For the 6th time, Gabrielle, I love it. Stop asking. Its perfect."
"Are you sure? Because I wanted it to be more red, its too dark and - " Edge silenced her by clasping his hand over her mouth, eliciting a squeal of protest.
"If it looked horrible, you'd still look beautiful. Its just hair." IN response, Gabrielle muttered something inaudibly, and Edge just grinned down at her.
I can't breath, you bastard! - Was her thought and he read it, quickly removing his hand and replacing it with his mouth briefly before she pushed him away.
"How is that supposed to help me breathe?" He snickered as she sat up.
"Mouth to mouth resuscitation." He shrugged and said simply as she flipped him off. After a thought he added, "Wait, we don’t have to breathe…you little bitch!" He reached for her on the couch, but she stood up and began to run, evading his reach on more than one occasion before slamming into Christian in the hall with a small scream of surprise. Using her moment of distraction to his advantage, Edge snuck up behind and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her away. Screaming and laughing at the same time, she attempted to fight back then yelled for help/
"Christian! Dammit, help me here!" Christian threw his hands up and shook his head.
"Sorry, I'm leaving. You're on your own here."
"God dammit, Christian! Get back here!" She yelled at him as he opened and closed the door, shaking his head at the lovers fighting like children. "Edge, let me go!"
"Like hell! You tricked me into using a very sacred life saving technique."
"What, jamming your tongue down my throat? That’s a - " He quickly spun her around staring down menacingly.
"Gabrielle, these things must be taken seriously, you know. You could have died." He told her in a parental tone, trying his hardest not to burst out laughing, which was exactly what Gabrielle did.
"I'm already dead…" She told him between peels of giggles. Sighing deeply, Edge let go of her.
"Well, I just suck today, don't I?" He looked down at her with large hurt eyes.
"Aww, come on. I was just playin…I can make it better…" Edge's hurt expression quickly turned to a grin as he grabbed her waist again and proceeded to and drag her up the stairs, this time without protest.
The streets began to get cold as he reached a bar, and walked in. It appealed to him, and something seemed familiar as he took a stool and ordered a Barcardi and coke.
"I.D.?" The bartender asked him absently, holding out his hand. He blinked and searched his pockets, but came up with nothing. "Kid, you can't drink, you can't stay. And get a haircut." He rose off the stool and stood for a while, scanning the room for someone that was as familiar as the bar was, when the door swung open, and at last, he found someone he recognised without a name in his head.