@h ♡ stephanie Ribbons of isolation festoon the frigid atmosphere of the room, its pristine white walls quiet and still. Encumbered upon the silence is a solid latch resounding—only sutured with breaths unbecoming towards its nature of cunning lightness. Folds of his lips are contained through a thin piece of mask—dexterity purses the flesh under careful eyes catered to one needling mistake. Solitude, ah, the thing that feasts upon unassuming silence; that which hauls Bambam into numb captivity—yielding upon surrender.
One that does, however, is a frail physique expectant across the flimsy panels of glass that divide Bambam from onlookers and solicitors. Almost mechanically, one stretch of facial muscles yearns attention—seeks the desperate attempt to flee from the constraint of transmitting false warmth. He smiles.
A doctor, the person utters. The melody of her hesitance unfaltering, eyes flitting consequentially to his own after a split second debate that dismantles her posture of decency, the result of his improbable name. Crisp, cool annoyance harbors itself into pleats, painting his facade—the blank face an emotion of crude unfamiliarity, hand offered with the wrong prescription.
The pharmacist before him must have read wrong, the mistake immediately redressed with Xanax. Another smile produced in subtle reluctance does Bambam speak, "Anything else?"
@b ♡ kunpimook steph picked up her regular dosage of xanax from the hospital, inspecting the brown bag as she walked away from the counter, but something about it seemed off. she took a seat to inspect the bottle and yup, it wasn't xanax at all. it was a bottle of adderall. honestly, adderall is some good and she could have just sold that stuff, but since the bottle was tied to her name and all that, she reluctantly decided to take it up with the pharm tech at the front with her big, charming smile. "hey, doctor-" she squinted at his name tag, she couldn't even begin how to pronounce it, so she cut herself short, "i think i grabbed the wrong prescription?"