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by 
it was meddlesome enough to be guarded like he were some war criminal ready to fuse a bomb of some sorts---but really, only one part of the title was true. thieving lungs unleashed a breathless sigh, a dulled gaze glaring against the pulsing waves of a setting sun. oranges marry reds, and the sky is a ephemeral blossom of a colored spectrum.
like den cared about this plastic beauty.
yeah, a hoax of paradise was all he saw. a prison, a place that prevented him from burning the world to the ground, to be able to stake out. he kind of missed it, unlike this place, where not even his curiosity was not aroused anymore ( numbed by the daily, safe routine --- pfsh, what were these kids kidding themselves that this was dangerous? ). an openly displayed frown, he fiddles around with his backpack that contained his laptop before noticing a stranger about his age.
a small winning smile, charm stretching his cheeks from apple to apple, a sacrastic appeal glinting in his eyes.
--------❝mind telling me where the computer room is?❞
