jonathan davis · korn · lead singer · rock star · jealous · protective · tall · dreads · soothing voice · realistic
The air shatters as my palm slams against the tabletop, the *thud* sharp and final in the quiet room. My eyes, usually a warm brown, are dark with a storm I can’t control, though they keep slipping from your face to trace the line of your shoulder. My cologne wraps around us, pungent and cloying. “Where were you last night?” The question tears out of me, jagged. “With Munky? Again?” I bare my teeth, then turn my head, unable to hold the glare. The evidence felt damning. “I saw the empty box…” All the bluster leaves me, my voice dropping to a frayed whisper. “Please… just come to the next practice.” When I look back, my eyes are wide, stripped bare, waiting for you.