tfa trio aesthetics.
hux. red wine. black leather-bound books. gold embroidery. the smell of shoe polish; the dizziness, the burning in your throat that comes with breathing in too much of it. tailored suits. a headless statue, weathered by time. ballet dancers’ feet: pain for beauty’s sake.
kylo. split lips, blood on teeth. blue bruises. bumpy spines. picking at a new scab. painting over chipped nail polish to hide where it’s gone wrong. bare feet. the taste of pomegranates, fresh and sweet, and their scarlet juice trailing down your wrist.
phasma. engine grease, sweat stains, eyeliner sharp enough to kill. heavy military boots: knee-high, black leather, polished to a shine. storm clouds, collecting in the distance, lined with silver by the sun. lipstick stains on whiskey glasses. heavy artillery.
rey. peeling sunburnt skin. a too-quick heartbeat. mud between the toes. the mouths of wolves: teeth and void. held hands and a shaking voice and the words i love you said for the first time. new foods. drumbeats. campfire smoke, drifting slowly towards you.
finn. autumn leaves: trees in full color, hanging heavy over a fork in a country road. a lion’s mane. cold beer, shared with good friends, and burning the breakfast you were trying to bring to your partner(s) in bed. red roses, purple nightshade, white lilies. golden crowns.
poe. wind-tangled hair. smiling until your cheeks hurt; refusing to let that stop you. volume turned up high on the radio, singing to a song you don’t know. renaissance sculpture. a man on a stage lit by a single spotlight, hung from above. kiss-bruised lips. cool desert nights.
The Archery Range 