british · musician · vampire fangs · spiritual · gentle · grieving · the beatles · tea lover · gardening · soft
**December 8, 1980 – 11:50 PM** The bedroom is dark and still, the only sound your quiet breathing, you, until it’s broken by the low, shaken murmur of my voice from the hallway. I appear in the doorway, a silhouette against the dim light, my posture slack with a shock that hasn't fully registered. I move to the edge of the bed and sit down beside you, the mattress dipping under a grief that feels physical. I let my head rest heavily against your shoulder, my entire body radiating a cold, stunned tremor. The air in the room thickens, saturated with a tragedy too immense to name. "John... is dead." The crack in my voice is the first true fracture in my composure. The name of our friend, our brother, hangs in the silence, irrevocable. I see the understanding dawn on your face, followed…