Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

the window of the shabby apartment was hit by one unwavering gust of wind after another. each drop off rain slid down the window, hopelessly falling to return to the earth again no matter how hard it may cling. feeling pathetic and hopeless as well, your fingers traced each rain drop down the window as the blood from your cut arms slid down in the same manner. you didnt let it bother you, focusing hard on the droplets to numb the sting.

you move back to the floor, holding your knees to you. feeling the empty feeling sit so prevalent within your chest, almost as if it could ooze out into your knees and swallow you whole. with every hit of the window, irritation grew. maybe its good to feel something, even if its bad. the emptiness always comes back. it's nice to feel something for a fleeting moment before it comes back to take hold of you again.

like a wave inevitably coming back to shore, you feel your whole body collapse to lay flat on the floor. too weakened and absent-minded to pull back up, you just stared to the ceiling. uneven in places, marred, and tinted in a yellow color from aged cigarette smoke from owners of the past. staring at the ceiling had become a usual part of your days. just letting time slip through your fingers, staring at a familiar ugly sight.

this place is going to drive you mad. unable to take the weight of everything here, you decided you need to leave. not wanting to explain to your mother that you were going nowhere in particular, in the pouring rain, you slid the window open. maybe being on the lower room of the apartment was a blessing.

pulling the window closed, you watched more droplets hit the ground and seep into the dirt, and paint the overgrown grass. each one bound to return to the ground, yet you quickened their fall. turning from the sight, you take to the roads. the streets were devoid of all people in this rain. the moon was soon too fall and kiss the earth. the town was yours. there was no one to watch you. no one to care about what you did. the world was yours for the moment, to do whatever you wanted, but it wasn't enough to kill the empty feeling.

familiar sights. you give all of your time to staring at the same walls and ceilings. who were you to change it now? there was nothing to do in this small town anyways. nothing better to give your time to. so, why not stare at a place that brought some comfort? an old abandoned house down the road.

the house was broken down, and empty. it was trashed by others that have come and went and disrespected the house further. the door was locked, but the lock wasn't an issue due to pieces of wood giving way to the test of time and windows that have given way to the neighbourhood. throwing one leg over the low window and moving the other to follow suit, you sit down on the floor, feeling the uneven pieces against your legs. the sofa left behind by the last owner would have been more comfortable, but comfort wasn't really an issue in the weak state your body had fallen into. you just stayed there.

and... back to the trivial day to day life. feeling a droplet hit your face every once in a while, you sit and stare to the road. counting each car that goes by to keep your mind from shutting down and your body from falling asleep, you continue to stare blankly into the road occasionally illuminated by headlights.

there was nothing special about this house. it smelled like sex and drugs from delinquency come and gone through the years, and dusty decaying wood. it was run down, the feeling of sitting in it was unpleasant. but somehow, you were tied to it. it was way worse than your shitty apartment, but every second spent in it was more meaningful.

a booming voice split the comfortable silence, "stop fucking calling me. i told you, 'i quit.' what part of it isn't clicking? I FUCKING QUIT. i can't stand this shitty town, your shitty pay, and the way you talk to me like shit for not looking the part. nobody fucking sees me in a shitty cubicle typing on another monotonous news article. take fucking mutton chops and shove them up your ass."

the fit of rage was drowned in the silence once again, as the man waited on a reply. until the voice came back, with even more force, "suddenly i'm your best fucking worker? i didn't hear that when you wouldn't hop off my dick over the way i looked. if i'm your best worker, raise my fucking pay to make this job worth putting up with you. are you gonna do that for me?"

a moment of silence fell again, "then, fuck you. fuck your shady buisness of pulling the wool over this town's eyes. fuck your shitty computers that take ten fucking hours just to boot up. fuck your self-made business with daddy's money. and fuck your bushy ass eyebrows."

yelling was nothing unusual in this shitty part of the town. the neighbourhood was swarmed with druggies, welfare-bums with no life, alcoholics... just, every brand of miserable. this stranger was no exception, and that wasn't at all surprising. this town is where dreams come to die. misery was painted on every corner like shitty graffiti.

footsteps began approaching you. expecting him to leave out the window, you shifted toward the side, giving him room. as the floorboards shifted to the side of you, you began to avert your gaze from the window, not looking to cause an issue with the angry man. however, no further movement was made.

looking to your side, you were instead met with a tall figure. his face was illuminated by the orange glow of a lighter against his cigarette, allowing you to take in his features for a brief moment before you were met with his face turning to take you in as well.

nervously turning away, a surprisingly kind voice filled the house this time. "sorry you had to hear all of that." for some reason, you flinched at the apology, scooting away from him slightly without thinking about the action.

"it's fine. sounds like a shitty situation." just like everyone's here. you can sympathize. its a shitty town, with a shitty situation around every corner looking to take hold of anyone dumb enough to come here.

"yeah, kid. you got that right." he returned, a gruff chuckle coming out with the exhale of smoke from his lips. "so, why the hell are you here? you don't seem to be up to some shit like every other kid i find in here."

"i come here when i don't feel like spending time in my home. it's got the same feeling of emptiness here, but somehow my body just brings me back every time." you admit, feeling stupid at the declaration.

"i understand that." he returned, turning his focus down to the floorboards to look wistfully at how withered it had become. "this was my childhood home. you'd think this house was decades old with the shape its in, but i lived here until i was 18. i come back 5 years later and its a shit pile." he lets out a small, bitter, laugh, "but i keep coming back."

you reply a small, "wow," not knowing what to say. left wondering what happened in such a small amount of time.

"shit happens, i guess. maybe, i wasn't meant to be here, but god its felt fucked up to be met with the house in this condition when i came back..." he glanced towards you again, noticing the dried blood and cuts on your arm this time, turning his body fully to face you and reaching out to grab your arm.

a sense of panic set in, as you began to scramble away from him until your body hit the wall. you had backed yourself into the corner. looking at him with fearful eyes had turned into squinting them shut, preparing for a hit like when your mother had found out about your habit.

"shit..." he mumbled, softly. your eyes opened to look at him once again, hearing the sincerity in his voice, "there's no reason to be scared."

you stared at him, flinching at every move he made. you felt your heart pound in your throat every time he made the slightest movement. the room had once again gone silent. this time, all of the former comfort was gone. "just-" he began, inching closer before hesitating at a small whimper that escaped you. "just... fuck- just close your eyes."

for some reason, you oblidged. maybe you wanted something to trust, even if its just the kindess of a stranger. the fear became something that was finally making you feel alive again. it proved you still had a heart, as it refused to lie still in your chest for the first time in years.

you kept your eyes closed, as he walked to the beaten up sofa and pulled a knife from his pocket. the blade tore into the beated up fabric as he cut a piece of it free. kneeling in front of you once again, he took your arm in his hands. you let it fall limp at his touch, allowing him to wrap the piece around it. you squeezed your eyes shut tighter, silently wincing at the sting as he tied it off.

he backed away slightly, giving you some room, but your eyes remained shut. he laughed a little at the sight.

"i'm done. why are your eyes still shut?"

"i felt something. i felt fear for the first time in years." you admitted. for some reason, he just draws out the confession you cant exactly put into words. he pulls it straight from your mouth, not caring how nonsensical it may sound, "but... i want to trust something, for once. so, i'm keeping them shut until you tell me otherwise."

"god, kid. you're absolutely fucking broken, aren't you?" he breathes out, "i can't say i'm surprised. something about this place has that affect on everyone."

you feel footsteps to your side, but dont open your eyes until you hear, "you can open them." the room is dark, but you can no longer make out the outline of his figure. so, you shift your body to turn and look out the window and see him once again. this time, with his back turned towards you.

"but, if you know what's good for you... you would keep them closed. at least until you leave this shit hole of a place."

and with that, the man disappeared into the rain.

leaving you alone, and empty again.

Chapter Text

"but, if you know what's good for you... you would keep them closed. at least until you leave this shit hole of a place."

the words have echoed in your head. the warning of someone who lived here for 18 years... every day for the past week has been plagued with those words. they don't ever leave. they've taken refuge in your mind. living in the run down walls of your recent memories of monotonous life.

every single day has run together, like rain drops on a window. droplets merging to hold on to each other, making the fall faster but more bearable in the arms of a stranger.

maybe this stranger has cushioned your fall. it was a simple act, yet held more sincerity than you had felt in a long time. it's nice to feel cared for, even if its unspoken. even if its from someone you don't know, you don't know.

a stranger wouldn't normally be so kind, but you've found more kindness than had ever been in your life before. you had removed the fabric of the couch from your arm, but something in you couldn't throw it away. you held onto it like a keepsake, of sorts. looking at it pulls a smile from you. it may just be a forced reaction you were conditioned to throw on. even in the comfort of your own home, your mind isn't at ease.

but it feels nice to smile. maybe its genuine. maybe you just want it to be genuine. maybe you need to be genuine to feel like a real fucking person again.

he made you feel seen. he may not know or understand why you're hurting, but he accepted it. instead of prying into it, he took it as a part of you. and maybe, thats all you really needed. just someone to let you feel like you weren't wrong for your feelings. someone who didn't care, as long as you're okay.

everything is a maybe, except for the fact that you wanted to see him again.

you don't even know what you want out of it. you don't know if you want comfort. if you're chasing some sort of solice in someone that was kind to you one time.

it feels more like you just want to feel normal. to have someone around that doesn't make you feel crazy for feeling the way you do. to have someone that draws words you didn't know you wanted to say from your mouth and turns the silence into something less empty.

evening had come. warm orange skies were painted along the glimpse of the sky from the window. it wasn't long before dusk prepared its inevitable fall to the sky. taking this as a sign, you left out your window once again. chasing the feeling once again, you make your way to the run-down home.

maybe its just simple muscle memory, but your legs seem to move on their own. they take every street you had come to remember without needing the guidance of your mind. they know it all too well. even upon ariving to the house, your body knows the exact spot in the old beaten up window to hike a leg over to avoid old shattered pieces of glass.

it feels like you would know your way around this place even if all light had gone away. like a home away from home, at this point. a home. no matter how the uneven floorboards hurt to sit on. even if the smell was something your nose had to adapt to. even though it was devoid of joy, itself. it always hospitably left itself open for you to indulge in the comfort it had brought you.

you find yourself smiling at this, and decide to explore for once. normally, you had just sat in front of the window. the evenings were your typical times. you would just sit and wait. wait for time to give way and fall down holding beautiful skies. allowing harsh darkness to fall down, signifying it was time to go.

the bathroom was cluttered. with very little light, you could still make out the trash improperly disposed of. from condoms wrappers, to heroin needles, to innocent candy packages. you name it, its there. the sink had a moth crawling along the bowl, clinging to the darkness. the tub was torn apart. the shower head was missing, as well as any sort of knobs that may have been on it at one time. the ceramic tub had been broken in many places that all came together to form a web of imperfections.

the kitchen wasn't so messy. it however, had just been doused in graffitti. the floors, the old stovetop, the fridge, even the ceiling. the drawings and quotes from assholes come and gone had even began to overlap due to how many there were. its sad to see what was, at one point, probably a decent house fall so hard from glory.

your exploration was cut short when meeting a pair of eyes in the first bedroom you had come to. they were shadowed over by a new york yankees hat, but its hard to fit in when you have mutton chops on the side of your face. the figure was instantly recognizable. he was sitting on the only thing in the room, a cheap cot. the walls were surprisingly devoid of the graffitti that had marred the kitchen, but there was a singular hole in the wall. taking in the sight of the room, his voice begins to fill it to break the wall of silence between you two.

"hey, kid." he greets, with a slightly chipper tone in his voice as if he were greeting an old friend, before dipping into a more serious one, "how's your arm?"

"doing better." you affirm, clutching the injured limb covered by a sleeve. "thank you," you return with a smile. it may not have been a genuine smile. it may have just been what you were conditioned to do in order to show graditute. that graditude, however, was genuine. more so than smile could ever dream of being. that's all that really mattered.

"don't mention it." he said, seemingly cutting the conversation short before offering, "you, uh, wanna sit down?" he offered, patting the cot. "its not as old as that couch. so, there won't be a spring up your ass. but the smell is just as bad. i guess some kids brought it in to fuck somewhere other than the floors. don't ever take a blacklight to this shit. worst mistake of my life." he laughed, and you followed suit. the cheap structure had shook a little with his laugh, holding together as best it could after all it had endured.

you took his offer, sitting next to him on the old cot, staring towards the walls for a moment before breaking the silence. "thank you, really. it was kind of you..." you trail off, looking for the words to properly express how much it meant to you.

"like i said, don't mention it. i'm not, like, some fucking saint." he scoffed slightly at the mere thought of it.

"maybe not a saint, but you're a good guy."

"i'm not some, 'good guy,' either. i'm a piece of shit, baby." he let out a loud laugh at that. self deprication was not an unknown joke from you, but to hear someone use them to deny your words was frustrating. it was hard to expresss your feelings, but you tried. and they seemed to fall on deaf ears.

"but aren't we all pieces of shit in this town?" you dryly laugh, "doesn't mean you aren't still kind. that was more kindess than i had recieved in years."

"that's the bare fucking minimum when a kid is bleeding."

"tell that to my mother." you said, voice dripping with sarcasm, "she choked me and told me, 'if you want to die so bad, i'll fucking kill you.'"

"god, some people shouldn't have kids." instead of lecturing you about how you should have went to cps, he just accepted that you probably don't want to live at the shitty children's home with known predators having positions of power.

he never really asks questions. never digs too deep. he just accepts that you're here. he accepts that you fill the silence. he doesn't do anything but be there. and for now, its enough.

and you do the same. you don't pry into his life. you accept what he says. you accept what he wants to share and don't push any further.

"i never got your name." he muttered into the air.

"y/n," you return, hearing the flick of a lighter to the side of you.

"i'm schlatt," he said as smoke rings danced to the sound of his voice. "sucks we had to meet like this. clearly, neither of us are really at a high point in life." that old dry chuckle returned to the air as a puff of smoke carried away the dancers in the air to darken the already yellow tinted walls.

"i'm glad we met," you interject his sentiment, playing with your hands on your lap. "it's nice when you're here."

he laughs at this, and you turn to him in confusion. a somber yet sincere look painted his face as he looked down to yours, "i don't think you'll enjoy my company for long. you were right to back away from me that night. i'm a complete stranger. you don't even know me. it's a little too early to judge if this is a good thing."

"i don't need to know you. you're schlatt, and you're a nice guy."

he threw his cigarette on the floor, having little regard for the already beaten down floor boards as he stomped it. you watched the smoke slowly stop until you were taken off guard by two large hands on your shoulders, flattening your position against the bed. he pulled himself over you on the cheap mattress. his legs found his way on the sides of yours and one hand went to your neck. he didn't squeeze around your throat. instead, he used it as a way to hold you down without hurting you while his other hand reached for his pocket.

you're not scared.

you're confused, but not scared. maybe your life just isn't valuable enough to you. or maybe its because when you look into his eyes... you see no malice. no ill-intentions. everything inside of you wants to fear for your life as the blade of a knife is illuminated by the low light falling through the window. you want to feel that same fear you felt that night, but every part of you is dormant. you dont fight him, you just look at him. you wait for whatever fate has in store for you tonight.

"i'm not a fucking good guy," he grunts, as he moves the blade to your throat. "i'll fucking kill you right here-" he hesitates slightly. so slight that someone else in this position that truly feared him may not even notice. but you did. "but i'm gonna fuck you first."

he makes no attempts to hold true to that statement. the blade isnt even pushed into your neck enough to leave a mark. it's simply held to the side. he's waiting. he's waiting for fear to take over on your end.

but that fear never comes. you've got him all figured out. "i know you aren't going to hurt me," you say, still not breaking your focus on his face. "you're barely touching me with the knife. you hesitated before saying you were gonna fuck me. you've made no attempts to do any of those things. if you wanted to, you would have tried when my arm was cut. i'd be too weak to fight you off. you helped me take care of it."

"shit, kid. maybe you're smarter than i took you for." he muttered, pulling the knife away from you and placing it against the mattress. "i don't want to hurt you. but you're a teenage girl that's going around making friends with grown men you don't know. that's a dangerous game. there's gonna be people who do want to hurt you."

"i don't make friends with grown men..." you pouted, "plus, i'm almost grown anyways. just one more year."

"it's still dangerous. you just... went limp while i was treatening you. that's not safe-"

"i knew you weren't going to hurt me."

"you don't know shit." he exclaims, taking your wrist weakly in his hand and the knife in the other. he shifts his weight from his hands back to his knees as to not hurt you before joining you hand with the weapon. he closes your fingers around it and stands up from his position over you, as you raise yourself up to a normal sitting position. "you keep that. take it every time you go out. too many young girls end up on headlines." he grumbled, frustrated at your lack of self concern.

"thank you." you smile. the forced gesture slowly turns into a cocky smirk, "see? you're a good guy."

"oh, suck my dick."

"you, clearly, can't make me." you tease. his laughter filling the room drew the same sound straight from your lips.

the laughter dried into a more serious tone as he spoke again, "i'm not a good guy." he turned to the door frame and began to walk out, before turning to you with departing words nearly too low to hear,

"but call me what you will. i just like to hear you talk."

Chapter Text

you joined an after school club. a simple art club. small and simple. everyone did their own thing and just let their creativity flow. a way to pass the time instead of spending all of your time in an empty room. you think it'll be good for you. maybe, you'll even develop a skill through it. if not, at least you'll have a hobby other than absent-mindedly scrolling your phone until your body passes out from exhaustion. the club is how you'd prefer to occupy your time.

or so you had told your mother.

the truth is, rather than returning home... you waited in that lonely beaten down house. every single day for the past week school until the sun had gone down to kiss the earth and the moon had risen once again into the vacant sky. you waited for him to step right in through the window just like before. every single day. you waited with one thought in your head, him. the way he cared for you. it was sweet and earnest. he depolluted the despairing feeling that rang out through every fiber of your brain. time just passed better when you had someone to occupy the hours with. someone who cared to listen and even seemed happy to see you.

he made you happy.

or maybe it was just a distraction from the feeling replaced with a passing obsession for a man you barely know.

but its never a crime to cling to kindness. 

with the way the world is, even the smallest kindness from a stranger was a glimmer of hope. you had no one else. nobody's lover, nobody's friend, and hardly even anyone's daughter. you wanted it to be him. you wanted that to be the one that brought you out of the loneliness, the one to share the story of the day with, and the week, and the year. a friend. you had acquaintances, even people that you hung out with, but no one to depend on. no one to even care about being dependable for. 

but why would he need you?

in and out of days, you waited like a loyal lap dog. panting at the bedside waiting for a single sliver of attention. waiting patiently at the door sat upright for the one person that could make the day better. waiting to do your tricks and do whatever it took to hold his attention, to make him stay with you for a moment longer before you watched him walk out again. however, you had been kicked by your owner once more every day. he didn't come. in between weeks, there was no sign of him. the man who gave you a glimmer of hope. the man who had tended to you. the hospitable stranger who you knew had once spent his days here frequently, even seeming excited to see you there.

"i just like you hear you talk." he had said. there was someone who wanted to listen. but reality isn't as kind as pretty lies. you couldn't throw your life to a man you barely knew. you needed to give in and let sleeping dogs lie. it wasn't going to happen. he had his own life and didn't have time for some kid waiting every day for a grown man that just tried to be understanding. you sighed, pushing your legs up against the wall as you lie on the floor. one more day, and it'll be over. you'll give up and go home. you turn your head to stare out the window, watching cars pass slowly through the town, each having a destination, having a goal, and what did you have? you sighed, beginning to count the cars to pass the time. 

10... 11...

17...18...19...

until all that remained of the outside world was a dark velvet hue of night.

Chapter Text

you stood, looking down at the trashed floor once more before kissing the memory goodbye. stepping over empty bottles, discarded belongings, relics of his past, and everything in between, leaving out the same window you had waited so patiently at. you smiled back at it, clinging to kindness is never a crime. clinging to kindness with the intent to share it back. you slide your legs down the wooden frame, nearly void of the glass that had once been there. dewy grass enveloped your calves and rustled their way around you. you urge your body that it is time to go, pushing your feet to take you to the place you dread to be, home.

the weeds seemed to home something else, a rustle still pushing through the sprouts and vines as you had already stopped in place. you cocked your head with a light squint, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound. the rustle was faint now that your focus had been drawn to it. almost as if something in hiding. you lowered yourself down silently, letting the droplets cling to the fabric of your pants and planting your hands firmly on the dirt. gentle two fingers split grass, peeking between wild perennials and the cycle of life sprouting back up against the rotten boards of the house. you push forward, crawling through the grass like a child. 

mrow... mow... you heard a weak cry from within the overgrown greenery.

a cat... you recognized, following the cries of what sounds like a hurt creature. you move slow and methodically, lowering your frame even closer to the ground in order to not scare the animal away. the sounds were getting closer and closer, and if you could just stay silent, you could reach it. palms smoothing down the weeds as to not rustle them with movement, shoes staying slightly elevated as to not squeak against the condensation on the grass, you simply pushed yourself further in. mute movements lead you to an orange hue in the grass barely recognizable through the veil of velvet night. gingerly, you outstretch a hand to the blob of color within the grass.

you see a shift in the grass and feel a cold wetness against your fingers. the cat had pressed its nose to them, intaking your scent, carefully deciding if you are to be trusted. the animal had decided to delicately remove its nose from your palm, still meticulously watching as you move a singular finger to rub against its cheek. the cat leaned into the touch, pushing its soft cheek into your cupped palm. it began to make its way towards you as well. 

scooping the creature into your arms against your chest, you take a better look at it. a big orange tabby, paws adorned with splinters from the decaying wood of the house, and a loose collar that had a gleaming tag against the moonlight. 

Jambo 

underneath was a contact number, you gave the cat a tender look before transferring it to only one arm. "We'll get you home." you hummed to jambo, pulling your phone from your pocket while looking at his tag. methodically typing the number in, you push it against your ear as you hit the button to affirm that you want to call. the electronic hums a repetitive tune into your ear until a static connection sparks up on the other side.

"hello?" you speak into the phone, holding jambo to you. you can hear faint beeping in the background as you wait for a response. a voice comes through the phone causing jambo to rub his head against the speaker. 

"hello?" the voice coming through the phone is glitchy and pitched upwards barely recognizable over the beeping of what sounds like a sound being produced by a car. nevertheless, jambo's paws begin to knead against your chest at the sound of the mans voice and a soft purr begins to vibrate through his body. what a sweet cat, through everything, he can recognize his owners voice. 

"i have your cat, jambo. i'm at west second street at the run down house on the corner. i'm on foot, but i may be able to bring him to you if you're closeby." 

"no need, i'm already driving through town looking for the little bastard." the connection cut on his end, and you put your phone back into your pocket. jambo let out a cry as the connection to his owner terminated. you soothed the sweet boy, swiping your hands across his furry head. you grasp a small splinter in his paw between your fingernails and tenderly pull it from the poor kitty's skin. 

"it's okay jambo..." you soothe, methodically repeating the motion to each splinter. thankfully, none were too deep. the cat looks back and forth, still in search of his owner's voice. his big green eyes scanned the house and the surrounding area. the cat never protested your grasp on him, simply took the advantage of height to scan the area. a light came into view from down the street and a car began to slow to a halt in front of you two. you stay put, waiting for the stranger to speak first. the window rolled down, but you couldn't quite make out the driver. however, jambo could. the orange feline began to jostle in your arms, catching a glimpse of the man. you jog lightly to the car, not being able to keep the cat at bay for long. the moonlight falls into the car pooling with the dim streetlights to paint a picture of the man's face. 

it's him. 

his hair was a mess, chocolate curls falling every which way over his face. his eyes looked tired under thinly framed aviator-shaped glasses, a slight redness underneath them as if he had been rubbing them beforehand. he leaned towards you, taking in your face for a moment as you stare in disbelief. the man you had waited weeks to see was right in front of you, and you had nothing to say. or maybe, too much to say. none of it can push past your parted lips, all that comes out is an awkward, "oh- hey, stranger. fancy meeting you here," with a nervous laugh hoping he would find it humorous as well. you raise the feline to the open window, watching schlatt's slender fingers reach to caress his beloved pet. a look of pure love illustrated itself beautifully on his face as his eyes locked with jambo's. his bright brown eyes reflected starry glimmers of the sky, as you drop his furry companion into the passenger side seat. 

"hey, kid," he breathes out, seeming as if he were calming himself down. he brought his hand to his mouth, clearing his throat before continuing, "thanks for picking this little bastard up." his typical gruff voice came through once again. it brought a smile to your face. a smile that he returned, moving his eyes back up to take you in again. you position your chest against the open window and lean slightly in to reach a hand into the car, giving jambo a final stroke behind his ear. you let your fingers brush lightly against his.

"no problem. he's a sweet baby," you coo at the cat, giggling to yourself lightly. he lowers his head as jambo crawls into his lap, settling his paws over schlatt's thighs and nuzzling his head against him. you pull yourself off of the car, giving the duo one last smile. "i better get home," you whispered, locking eyes with him hoping it would not be the last time you could take him in. you clear your throat, recomposing yourself before beginning to take a step forward. 

"it's late," his voice cuts through the silence, cutting off your step mid-way, "let me take you home." he leans towards you and popped his door open from the inside. his eyes looked back up at you, sweet and smooth like caramel despite everything else about the man's mannerisms and appearance.

"what a gentleman," you tease, fluttering your eyes shut and taking the upper-side of your hand and draping it over your forehead, the other over your heart in a swooning-motion. the sound of the car door shutting brings your eyes back open. schlatt rolls his eyes back, but there is still a look of amusement present. his hands reach to pull the car out of park, and you quickly take it back. "no, no, i'm sorry!" you shriek, pulling the door back open and settling in as quickly as possible. the smell of the car and the warmth enveloped you. light tints of tobacco were overpowered by the aroma of fresh leather and a hint of cedar wood. you slung your arm out through the window and felt the breeze pull it backwards. the cool air contrasted with the air coming from the heater of the car. 

"where to?" he questioned, one arm slung over the wheel and the other massaging his temples. the fingers held up his glasses during the motion, and downturned lashes kept his eyes dark and smooth against the streetlight being passed. its strange being so close again. had he always been beautiful? you were left in wonder, studying his face under soft warm lights that painted the night. he lowers his hand, letting the frames fall back down on his the bridge of his wide nose. 

"the apartments on west eighth," you spoke, leaning your side against the door and turning your frame to face him, senses overwhelmed by everything. the slight smell of musk and fresh soap on him wafting to you from the air vents, the sight of him being so disheveled, yet alluring. the nonchalant nature of having you in his car, letting you into his personal world. the warmth of the car and the slight cooling sensation and the freshness of the air having your window half-way down. you felt content finally being where you wanted to be for weeks, with him. 

"yes, ma'am." he said, tipping an imaginary hat, as the car began to accelerate up the road. you giggled at the gesture with a slight smirk, watching his eyes shift to the corners to observe your response. his eyes shifted seeing that yours were looking at him, it really was like being strangers once again. awkward and careful. you rolled the window back up, beginning to feel chills as the car began to move. you shivered, leaning towards the vent. 

"you shouldn't be out so late." he remarked, clearing his throat lightly. he methodically shifted the car to the right, taking a turn and giving your heart a slight pang knowing your time with him is about to be over. 

"i don't like to be home," you whispered, looking down at your feet solemnly. he seemed to almost mirror the action, hanging his head low for a moment before placing a hand on your shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. you leaned into it, soaking up the warmth of his hand against the shoulder that was still lightly trembling from the cool air. 

"i know, kid... i know." he breathed out gruffly, "you won't be forever. you're what? 16?"

"17." you corrected, fidgeting slightly in your seat as you faced him. 

"even closer to being free to shape your own life. give it a year or two." he stated, optimistically. 

"i don't have any sort of plan. i don't know what to do when that time comes."  you admitted, wrapping a hand over the one he had placed on your shoulder, looking into the apartments windows that now shined against the headlights. his hand slid out of your grasp and pulled the car into park, letting the lights fade.

"you've got me in your corner, kid. you have my number. when it gets to be too much, give me a call and we'll get out for a day. we can talk about it, or we can distract from it." 

"you'd do that for me?" you asked, doubting the kindness. you had done nothing for this man, but somehow he had looked out for you at every turn. "why?" 

"i owe ya one." he hummed, stroking jambo's head. 

Chapter Text

you woke up to a warm wetness between your thighs. the same monthly inconvenience that would plague you for years to come. it was early, an hour before your mother would head to work so you kept a respectful silence in all of your movements. you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, pulling your frame upwards from the once laying position. you placed your feet flat onto the floor, and prepared to slowly lift your weight. you let every old bed spring release gradually, careful to make no noise. you shift your weight slowly up, not making a single sound. you let your feet plant on each old board of your upstairs room, careful to make no disturbance to the downstairs your mother resided in. it was hard to make no noise with the state of everything in the house, you had basically resorted to a tiptoe across the house, feeling blood slide down your leg with every step. you knew the consequences to awaking her though. you winced at the thought remembering all the rage-filled tantrums of the adult that was meant to have patience and guide you. all the times being pushed to the floor, towered over by the woman, slapped across the face by her large hand. you kept the same stiffness in each move, always remembering the consequences. each time you went to take a step, you moved your feet each possible place to plant it, pressing lightly to test which part of the floor would made the least amount of noise possible. 

you slid your socks across the bathroom linoleum, gliding across the room to be completely silent, shutting the door as much as completely possible. it was uneven on the hinges, so you couldn't completely close it, but it was enough to keep the noise contained. you took care of the problem that had arisen, groggily going through the mundane task. you flushed the toilet and washed your hands clean, praying to god it didn't wake her. you sleepily made the complicated journey back to the warmth of your bed. your mother's alarm begins to sound the moment you make it back. you praised your lucky stars, and hid yourself underneath the covers. your breath shook as you finally let it out, you hadn't even realized you were holding it in until you felt your diaphragm completely relax. you squeezed your eyes shut as the familiar sound of your mother's footsteps travel up the stairs. you had memorized the pattern of each mood to prepare for the confrontation that may come if she was not just coming up to use the bathroom. you could tell if she was angry just by the weight she put onto the noisy steps of the house. today, it was casual. you sighed and began to try to let yourself sleep as she approached the bathroom.

you heard her feet close to the sink before the footsteps had stopped. you clutched your blanket close, hoping she hadn't found something to complain about. you carefully went through all of the motions you had done in the bathroom in your head. you had disposed of the wrappers, you had flushed the toilet, and you had cleaned up the blood that had dripped down your leg to the floor thoroughly. you relaxed a little, hoping that the stop in footsteps was a coincidence. then, a sound came out. a groan. a haunting groan, you knew something bad was going to happen. her footsteps began going in the opposite direction towards your door. 

fuck. fuck. fuck. 

she snatched the door open, and ripped the blankets upwards. her eyes were completely manic and you whimpered lightly under your breath, wondering what had gone wrong. she didn't inform you of what you had done, just grabbing your wrist tightly and pulling you off of your bed. you didn't fight back, simply let yourself go limp so she didn't use any more force on you. she began to pull you to the bathroom, your legs wobbly with fear and stumbling behind her. her cold eyes locked with yours as she began to sling you in front of her. your hands gripped onto the sink, but not nearly hard enough as she pushed you to the floor in front of the toilet. you yelped as your knees hit the cold hard floor, and you scrambled against the tub. 

"what is that?" she screamed, pointing to the toilet seat where you saw your failure. you didn't check the toilet. a blood clot had fallen from your thighs when you sat down, and you looked at in horror. you didn't dare look at her, you couldn't look at her when she was like this. every time she made you look at her when she was like this, you were haunted by it. you can never wipe the look in her eyes from your mind. you had also began to cry, seeing you cry always seemed to give her more of a power-trip. you didn't let your tear stained eyes meet her cold ones. 

"i'm sorry, i was tired i didn't see-" you whined out almost incomprehensibly, reaching quickly for the toilet paper roll behind you. you began to pull a piece outward with shaky hands, but to no avail. she moved quicker. her hand wrapped around the back of your neck and she forced your nose into it. you tried to protest with your body, but you would never overpower her. you just went limp, as you always did when she got like this. it was all about her and how you victimized her. protest of any sort was not tolerated. she didn't care about reasoning, she didn't care about your pain. she would simply act like it didn't happen in a day or so and that you were an ungrateful kid and a whiny girl with a victim-complex. you felt the blood spread across your nose and nearly vomited against the toilet seat. 

"you think i'm your maid? you think i live to clean up after you? this is disgusting." she screamed against your ear, she didn't care that you had immediately went to clean it up, and never asked her to do so. she didn't care that you were that you weren't very experienced with having periods and didn't think to look before leaving the bathroom. instead of just asking you to clean it, she decided to get some sort of sadistic kick pushing you into your accidental mess. you felt disgusting. you just cried, waiting for her to release you so you could clean the toilet as well as yourself. "clean this shit up, you fucking lazy pig." a simple accident had spiraled terribly, and you kicked yourself for not being extra careful. you sobbed, lips trembling against the cold ceramic of the toilet. you stretched your arms as far back as possible, collecting crumpled toilet paper in your hands and tearing it off messily. you wiped it off, collecting the clot in between the paper. she shifted you to the side, pushing you back to the floor before releasing your neck. she stepped back to observe you finishing the task. you quickly collected yourself, ripping two more pieces of toilet paper to clean with. you stood, trembling as you wet one of the tissues in the sink. you wiped it over the bowl and dried with the other piece, dropped both of them in to the bowl, and pulled the handle, flushing them down. your eyes shifted slightly to see if she had stepped to the side to let you leave the cramped space. she just grabbed you once again, slinging you out of the room. you were met with a quickly slamming door as your legs completely gave out from fear. you trembled too hard to get up, simply scrambling to your room on your knees. you grasped onto your bed frame, using it to support your shaky weight. 

you glanced at yourself in the mirror in shame, as you searched through your drawer for a wipe. you scrubbed and scrubbed, still feeling disgusting even as your nose went red and raw. you kept seeing the blood stained nose in the mirror no matter how many times you swiped the wipe across it and it came out clean. you threw it, and gripped your hair in your hands, pacing across the small bedroom. your eyes landed on your phone. 

i need to get away soon. 

you frantically texted him, tucking back into your bed with teary eyes. you listened to your mother's footsteps descend into the lower floor and just bided your time until she was gone. you listened, hearing her rustling through her closet, and in between the muffled sounds of fabric was the sound of keys. you were taken out of the sounds of her quick routine when your phone buzzed lightly in your hand. 

yes ma'am. let me know when you're ready

you smiled through the tears and looked out the window as you watched for her departure. you saw the neighbor's door swing open. nearly you took no interest in who was living near you, but your heart skipped a beat when you saw him. your heart filled slightly as you realized he was always a knock away. you never even noticed that his car was the one that was parked near your mother's every day. you had always kept to yourself, so it was no surprise that you didn't know. you watched him settle on the small folding chair on the concrete slab that the apartments called a "porch". he lit a cigarette while pushing his brown curls backwards and you finally heard the squeak of the door and saw your mother step out. the two met eyes, and your mother smiled at him and waved. it made you sick that she just went on about her day no matter what she did to you. you watched as she walked to her car, peeking through to wait for her to pull out. schlatt's eyes seemed to be looking at the slight gap in the blinds, as she drove off to work.

you didn't waste any time, still crying, you ran down the stairs and slammed against the door as you fidgeted with the handle secondly. you ran to schlatt, who dragged the light of his cigarette against the wall to put it out, sliding it into his pack as he stood. you realized you hadn't even bothered getting out of your night clothes, becoming slightly embarrassed at him seeing you like this, but needing to wipe the event from your mind. you were in a tight tank top with no bra and some short shorts, feeling exposed in front of him. you frantically folded your arms in front of your chest and held yourself while he composed himself. 

"in or out?" he asked, pointing between the door of his apartment and his car. you said nothing, just fumbled the door open and ran inside. 

"do you want to... talk?" he muttered, stepping in and pulling the door to a close behind him. you shook your head, too ashamed to relive it. 

"i just need to not be alone." you whimpered, digging your fingernails into your arms. you shook violently, standing stiff in his living room.

"your mother sure is something. never seen crazy in someone's eyes like that before." he let out a laugh, shaking his head at the thought, "you don't have to tell me what happened." you couldn't respond, just stood in place, finally letting your arms untense and fall to your side. you watched him lock the door. he nonchalantly walked past you and sat on the couch, barely acknowledging the fact you were in his house. he leaned forward to be closer to the table in front of him, adorned with a bottle of jack, three shot glasses, a lighter, and a blunt in the process on a small rolling tray. he patted the seat beside him as he began to roll the paper. you obliged, settling into the seat and wiping your eyes. 

"can i join the wake and bake?" you laugh through tears, as he finished up. he smirked, dropping the finished product to hold up the bottle of jack daniel's in a sort of offering. you nod, watching his thumb fidget the cap off. he pours a shot neatly and passes the bottle over to you. you take it with shaky hands, and begin to tip it towards the other glass. you knew you couldn't do it with the state of your jittery movements. you take a look at the bottle before opening up your throat. you press the bottle to your lips and tilt your head back, easily taking in nearly three shots. schlatt looks at you, a slight fire in his eyes as he finishes his singular shot. you place the bottle back on the table and wipe your lips. the sting in your throat is warm. your entire body started to feel a little bit warm and fuzzy. 

"you can handle your alcohol. a woman after my own heart," he laughed, picking up the blunt and flicking his lighter against it. your face warms up at the comment, even knowing it was meant in good fun. you snatch it from his hands as soon as it is lit, taking a long hit and managing to stomach it without coughing. his eyes were filled with amusement, watching your eyes stop draining themselves as the smoke leaves your lips. he reaches for the blunt, as you turn away from him shielding it from him playfully with your hands. his arm snaked into the space between your arm and torso and wrapped his fingers around your chin. he tilted your head backwards, with your face in the air where he could see it, he carefully moved his hands up to take the blunt from your lips. you giggled, a newfound happiness in your light head. you occupied the space between the two of you, letting yourself fall backwards and lean the back of your head against his broad shoulder. you stare up at him while he puffs, holding smoke in his throat for a few seconds.

"glad to see you made yourself at home, you stingy bitch." he let out his signature hearty laugh, letting out the smoke he had collected in his throat. you laugh, using the bottom of the couch to slide your shoes off and throw your legs over the armrest. you smile like a mischievous kid, looking up at him innocently exaggeratedly batting your eyes. he scoffed at the gesture, pressing the blunt to your lips and letting you wrap your lips around it. you breathe it in with quick back-to-back puffs, taking each in your throat and building them up, not bothering to remove the blunt from your lips while doing so. his arm remained draped over you his hand loosely hanging down your shoulders. he took the smoking roll from you when he deemed you had had enough for the moment and took it back into his lips. you brushed your fingers over your lips, immaturely enamored with the idea of the closeness, the indirect kiss. you two began repeating those same motions over and over again. 

"thank you for this." you slurred slightly, gesturing loosely at everything around. he looked down at you, downturned eyelashes drooping over his eyes slightly. "sometimes, i just need someone to take my mind off of things to keep me from destroying myself. if i let myself wallow on the feeling, i get lost in everything that she's done to me and i can't bear to look at her." you ponder for a moment, "have you ever been strangled?"

"can't say i have."

"the look is almost the scariest part. raw bloodlust in the moment, and your vision goes blurry just looking at murderous intent from someone you had once loved." you ramble, wrapping your lips around the blunt he held to your lips. he looks down at you, stroking a finger lightly over your cheek once his hand was free in attempt to soothe you. you lean into the motion, "i don't know. it's hard to ever look at her the same, even during the good times."

"you're a good kid." he simply states, causing a weird feeling to bubble up, like maybe you had waited all your life just to hear that. you felt at peace.

"part of me almost believes you," you laughed, lolling your head back. 

"and part of me really wants breakfast..." he mumbled into the roach of the blunt.

"all of me really wants breakfast." you affirm, feeling his weight moving out from under you. you lifted to let him free, and began following behind him. you saw jambo sunbathing in the window sill next to the stove, orange fur vibrant in the sun. schlatt gathered eggs and instant bacon from the fridge. 

"it's not going to be anything special." he mutters, groggily fluffing his hair backwards.

"all food is special when you're high." you quip, stretching your arms up, mindlessly letting your midriff show. you smile, he's almost sickeningly sweet. beneath the rough exterior, he was kind. 

"how do you like your eggs?" he asked, cracking his into a bowl to scramble, it seemed like a good idea.

"scrambled." you respond, adjusting your clothes and staring over at jambo. "how are his paws doing?" you ponder, remembering the little splinters.

"they're good," he hummed, adding more eggs to the bowl. you watch him, broad shoulders pushed back as he lazily whisked the eggs together with a fork on the small counter. you grab the eggs to put them away in an attempt to help a little. you realize that all of the apartments on the side of the complex were a two bedroom. you began to formulate questions in your head. 

"do you live with somebody else? will it be okay with them to have me over?" you blurted out, wondering too much into his personal life. 

"i live alone." he furrowed his brows, shifting his gaze to you curiously. you'd gotten his attention with the question. "why do you ask?" he leaned against the counter behind him, crossing his arms, never breaking the eye contact between you two. it was as if he was picking you apart with his eyes, figuring you out. 

"you live in a two-bedroom." you pointed out, gesturing toward the stairs. 

"oh," he muttered, heating up the burner and transferring the eggs into a pan. "the one bedrooms aren't in the best condition. i figured, hell, i'll shell out a little extra to live in a place that doesn't make me want to kill myself." he rambled, placing the pan on the burner, sounding a slight hiss from the transfer of heat. "the other room is usually just used when my dad comes around for the holidays." he popped open the pack of instant bacon, spacing them out over the surface of a plate. "my father owned that house you like to hang around. he moved to new york when i was around your age to further business. he always sent in the house payment despite no one living in it. when i was 18, he signed it over to me. it was fully paid off, i was ecstatic." he recalled, retelling the story with a smile as he slid the plate into the microwave. "i quit my job, i said my goodbyes, and i hopped in my car. i was met with it looking about how it does now, maybe the rot was a little toned down." he shook his head, cut off by the microwave's beeping. "i was pissed and my father was heartbroken. he told me to come back home, but i knew that this was my home. i begged the manager for a shot, and she took me through all the available apartments. i used my savings to pay for the place until i could get a job. the rest is history." he pulled the plate from the microwave, sitting it down, and switching his focus back to the stove.

"so, that's where you got your deplorable accent," you huffed, leaning against the wall and folding your arms over your chest. he scoffed, collecting two plates from the cabinets above the stove. he divided the egg portions into the two plates quickly, taking extra time to crack the bacon and organize the pieces over the eggs. he handed you a plate, you laughed at the sight. he had placed two medium strips of bacon over the eggs in the semblance of eyes and he cracked a long piece to curve it slightly downward into a frown at the lower side of the eggs. 

"you're breakin' my heart, toots." he said, thickening his accent deliberately. you mimic a vomiting motion, placing the plate down on the counter. you began to cut the eggs with your fork, letting the steam rise up into the air.

"suck it up," you laugh, sliding into the space between him and his side of the counter. you reach for his plate and begin to shape the food into a smile, with a small smile of your own across your face. you turn to face him just now realizing how close you two were. "all better." you said, sarcastically gesturing to the plate. he reached over your shoulders, draping his arms over you to reach for a piece of bacon. he towered over you, your face only reaching his chest and his arms nearly reaching your stomach even when just loosely draped over you.

"are you feeling any better?" he mumbled, laying a hand flat on your chest, just below your collar bone. he applied a little bit of pressure, pulling you in towards him. his arms draped around your neck, hands smoothing themselves over your shoulders. you backed your head into his chest, leaning it against one of his arms. it didn't feel sexual, romantic, or anything of the sort in the moment, just pure intention to comfort. it was simple and sweet.

"yeah," you whispered, soaking in the warmth of his body against yours. you spun your body around to face him, his arms loosely falling around your waist, connecting his fingers along your lower spine. "thank you," you smile up at him, snaking your arms up his shoulders and lightly massaging the back of his neck, hooking a finger into the back of his hair. his eyes were dark and big in the dim light of the kitchen. his lips were parted slightly while he was looking up and down your frame. there was a tension in the air now, almost tangible enough to breathe in. he moved his hands onto your waistline. this time rather than ghosting his hands above your figure, he gripped onto the dip in your frame, just above the curve of your hips. his thumbs hooked underneath your tank top ever so slightly brushing bare skin. it sent goosebumps over your skin, shivering lightly, but bucking your hips slightly towards him and leaning your torso against the counter. he looked down taking in your now exposed stomach, with your shirt riding up from his intrusion. his thumbs widened their pursuit of your soft skin, rubbing them over the skin towards the center of your waist rather than the sides. his thumbs met underneath your belly button tracing a line between it and the hem of your shorts. you leaned into it, giving yourself over to him. you felt small in his hands. you knew neither of you were thinking correctly, but you wanted to soak in this closeness. 

you two were nearly silent as his hands explored your midriff, only an occasional nearly inaudible hitch in breath would come between the two of you. you began to pull the fabric of your shirt up a little bit, finally meeting his eyes as you slowly teased the slight reveal of your chest. his eyes stayed on yours rather than traveling down your body. he was almost frozen in place for a moment before retracting his hands. you stood in shock, your own hands releasing the cloth of your shirt. he gripped it tight within his own hand, pulling it back down in one swift motion. he ran his hands through his hair, gripping onto a handful while looking at the counter blankly. his eyes filled with a sort of lament, as he looked at the two formulated emotions drawn on the plates. 

"finish your breakfast, then maybe you should go. i'm sorry, i don't know what got into me." he declared, walking back to the living room to pour another drink. 

Chapter Text

"it's okay." you soothed glancing at him from across the room. "neither of us are thinking right. it's early in the morning and being cross-faded doesn't help." you laughed, nervously. he didn't respond, simply staring blankly into the distance. his eyes looked blank, as if he were still processing the events that had happened. you watched his face, a stoic expression curving his lips into a frown. 

"you're a kid." he choked out, lying his forehead into his open palm. his eyes fell to the floor, guilt and shame ridden over his face. 

"we're only about 5 years apart, i'm one year from being an adult. we're both just not in our right minds right now. we'll just forget all about it!" your reasoning had become pleading. you had just got him back, and you felt like it was going to be ruined already. you strolled over to the couch, taking a seat next to him. "we can laugh about it a week from now."  you whispered, wrapping a hand around his knee, patting it lightly. he tipped his head back, leaning the bottle back into his mouth. his eyes squinted lightly as he took the drink in, swiftly placing the bottle back into his place once he was finished. you took the bottle, taking a final drink for confidence. his hand wrapped over yours, gripping it lightly.

"i'm sorry, kid." he slurred out, watching your fingers interlace with his. "i want to guide you and help you through the shit in your life, not pile more on to it. you need someone you can trust."

"and i trust you." you whispered, gripping tighter onto his hand. "you're the only person i trust." you admitted, feeling pathetic saying this to a near stranger. he breathed out heavily, shifting his body over to face you. he untangled your hands from his, watching you almost in fascination. you felt as if he was looking into your soul, unraveling you with his eyes to your very psyche. you knew that saying this was pitiful, but he didn't seem to look at you in a scrutinizing way. he looked at you with almost a morbid interest as to why.

"you have no fucking idea how broken you are." he murmured, searching your eyes for any sort of explanation. you knew he didn't understand. you barely understood it yourself. "your sorrow could fill a fucking ocean." he whispered, hanging his head down. "and maybe you'll never tell me why, but i'm here to do my best to keep you from drowning." the words sounded choked out coming from a tight throat. he seemed upset on your behalf, but the words drowned out into until the reassurance of his place in your life hit your ears. you just smiled at him, a wide toothy grin emerging over your face. 

"that's all i really need." you admitted, the feeble need for validation being met was all that you had needed in that moment. it was more euphoric than the high itself. a fragile view of how compassion was meant to be was evident. you had learned to soak it up, cherish it for weeks into the months. you knew that it wasn't going to come for a long while, so every time it was shown you would bathe in it. maybe the damage of how you were treated all of your life under the thumb of your mother was to blame. maybe you were also under his thumb. it felt as if the only way to be loved. you were malleable, shaping yourself under the thumb of whoever's fondness you sought. you built yourself to please. you wondered if you would let this continue all of your life, or if you would ever shape your sense of self with your own hands. 

"one more thing. you use that fucking knife i gave you if i, or anyone else for that matter, lays a hand on you again though. it wasn't given to you for shits and giggles." he demanded, guiding you with a gruff voice. you felt like a kid being scolded, looking at your feet instead of formulating a response. he didn't take the subject lightly, he stared you down waiting for an affirmation to his demand. upon not giving him any, he gripped your jaw to turn your face towards him. once your attention was on him, he made yet another demand, "i need to hear you say it. it's not safe for a kid to be living the way you are. people are shitty, and if you don't toughen yourself up you'll be in an even worse state than you are now. now, promise me." 

"i promise." you choked out, not even knowing if you had believed your statement. you could never hurt him, you could never say no to him. it's just the way you are. you longed for the comfort of acceptance, and you learned to just go with the flow of whatever someone seemed to want. you didn't even know how to change it. it was a part of you. it was the only part you knew was really you through all the disguises you used to obtain the love and validation you craved from others. you take your finger to his neck, mocking a slitting motion over it with a laugh. he seemed mildly satisfied with the response, letting go of your jaw and chuckling in amusement at the motion. he huffed out lightly. 

"how are you feeling now?"

"in a state of limbo. i'm still not looking forward to going home, but i'm distracted from it. there's a feeling of dread, but it's numbed out at the back of my mind." you rambled, hardly able to ever communicate your feelings coherently. you pulled your knees up against your chin, resting your head on them.

"i know you don't want to talk about whatever happened, so what do you want to do?" he questioned, leaving the decision open. you curled closer to yourself, pondering the question. there was nothing coming to mind at the moment. 

"there's not much to do in this town," you laughed. the town was small with little to do and you neither of you could drive in this state. you weren't exactly sure what he had to occupy the time in his apartment, so you didn't know what to request. you just pondered the ways you could stretch your time with him out. "how did you think your life would turn out when you were my age?" you asked, in a small attempt to fill the silence. he hummed, slightly surprised by the statement. you could see a slight fondness in his eyes when he thought about the times he had not too long ago. he smiled lightly.

"i thought i would still be in new york. i thought i would marry the girl i had my first kiss with. i believed i'd go to college for something i didn't care about and be stuck in a 9-5. i was stupid back then, and the life i imagined wouldn't have fulfilled me at all." he smiled, his eyes still coated in the tenderness he held for his memories. "what about you, kid? where do ya think you'll be at my ripe old age?" he laughed, turning his attention back towards you. the question filled you with sadness. you never planned your life whatsoever. 

"i always my mind would destroy me before i even made it this long." you admitted, laughing at the sentiment dryly.

"where would you want to be? if you could think of a future that made your past worth it, where would you be at 23?" he asked, making you feel a little less pessimistic. the question was soothing, hopeful. you smiled at the thought, peering at him from over your knees. a future that made the past worth it... 

"a little cabin in the woods near a beautiful creek on a big plot of land. not too far from civilization, but far enough for it to be peaceful all day long. as many cats as i can get my hands on, all with different colors and personalities. i would never be lonely. i'd be in love or at least have a dear friend that i choose to spend the rest of my life with, sharing the cabin with one person, leaving everyone else behind. i'd never speak to anyone that hurt me again. my person and i would bathe under the moonlight every night. we'd pick fresh fruits from the garden and feed them to one another. and when the fruits wither away for the season, we would plant another set for the coming season. our cats would help till the soil, digging along side us to keep us company. we would build a fire-pit, and hold one another beside it in the winter, roasting freshly caught fish over it keeping a nice share for the cats as well. maybe we would even keep livestock, only eating them when their life comes to an end. i know i would be the first to die. my mind was never kind to me even before all the shit i went through. i hope that my lover or friend would give me back to nature, burying me just under the garden to give new life to the plants. i'd hope to be remembered fondly, even if i were the one to destroy myself. i hope to be remembered enveloped in the sunlight smiling, rather than the late nights in the rain when my tears refuse to subside. and if reincarnation is real, i would go back in every life, rather it be as an insect or a child." you dreamed, creating a whole life for yourself in the span of minutes. you knew that it was unrealistic and wouldn't be your fate, but no one ever regretted dreaming.

you peeked over at him again, he was still smiling fondly, seeming almost lost in your dream world as well. you knew he would be the one you longed to take with you in that world, as a lover or a friend. you don't know why, but in every vision of your beautiful world, he was there. jambo bathed in the sunlight with a beautiful calico cat, as schlatt pulled another fish from the creek dropping it into a smelly bucket of meat beside him. you kissed his temple, tucking together into the single bed of the cabin. you could see him in the orange evening glow, smiling as you lie in the flowerbeds. it was a beautiful dream. you felt yourself emerged in it even as you were awake.

"that's beautiful. you got a big imagination and a big heart." he remarked, smiling at the vision of your dream. 

"maybe you could be my partner in crime because i don't know how to fish." you laughed, passing the request off as a joke. you knew it wasn't feasible, but you wanted him to dream with you. you watched his expression cautiously from the corners of your eyes. he threw his head back with laughter. you savored it, enjoying the fleeting moments of good company before having to isolate in your room again. his hands brushed back the curly mess of hair falling over his face and he propped his feet up on the table. 

"you just want me to do all the work for you. you want me to build your cabin by hand too?" he teased, watching a grin appear over your face. "you sneaky bitch." you joined in the laughter, enjoying the jokes and feeling a sense of belonging. your humor bounced well off of one another, and it was easy to laugh with him. it was easy to feel happy with him. 

"fine. me and my future 10 cats don't need you!" you grumbled, exaggeratedly crossing your arms. "and jambo is going with me!" you exclaimed, stretching your legs back to the floor to pick yourself up. you strolled over to jambo on the windowsill, stroking a hand over his head. you watched him lean into the touch, using it as further leverage to threaten him. your eyes fell on to a cardboard box on the floor. you picked it up, scooping the sweet cat into it. his eyes peered up at schlatt, who watched the two of you in amusement. "it's okay, buddy. i'll save you." you faux-soothed him. he enjoyed being in the box, not moving from his position in it. you carried it to the door, wrapping your hands over the handle. "tell the mean man 'bye bye'," you said, pulling one of his paws up in a fake wave back to him. he meowed lightly as schlatt stood, rolling his eyes while he approached the two of you. you realized how much difference there was in your height. you were now staring up at the man you were at eye-level with not too long ago on the couch. he grabbed jambo out of the box, turning him towards you and moving his lips near jambo's fuzzy ear. 

"claw this bitch's eyes out." he whispered in a slightly singsong tone, just loud enough to ensure that you would hear him. jambo meowed, sliding from his grasp back down to the floor. "fuck," he mumbled, watching the feline roll over on the floor. "guess i gotta do this shit myself." he grumbled, spacing two fingers in the air equally distancing them around the area around the bridge of your nose. you squealed as he slowly moved them near your eyes. you moved backwards violently, tripping over the beginning flat drop of the staircase and falling flat on your back, catching yourself with the palms of your hands. the impact wasn't hard due to the carpeted area. you laughed as his hand outstretched out to you. he seemed to be amused by the whole ordeal, suppressing a smile slightly at the sight of your tumble. you gripped onto his palm, using it to pull yourself back up.

"asshole." you giggled, looking up at him as you stumbled to your feet.

"i never claimed to be anything but," he shot back, releasing your hand as you stood steadily. you felt guilty, enjoying the tenderness of him treating you like a child, but also craving more. you could still see him in the delusion you had created, soaked curls under the flow of the creek water. you wondered when he'd become so beautiful to you, brown eyes glistening in the false memory of the sunset shining down on the water. you watched his lips curl around a strawberry, taking it from your fingers into his mouth. in a moment of looking up at him, you had imagined a whole life. you felt ashamed. he was trying to take care of you, to resist you, but you didn't want him to. you selfishly wanted to take more. you smiled, a tinge of sadness plaguing your mind as you realize you should get back, your head still pounding from the substances. it was time to crash again. 

"i better get back. thank you for today though." you whispered, placing a hand on one side of his face, feeling coarse chops underneath it. you raised your feet to your tip toes, placing a light kiss on the opposite side from your hand. you dropped your hand from his cheek and turned quickly, too nervous to watch his reaction to the motion. you fumbled the door handle with shaky hands, the light flooding your senses as it swung open. the warmth of it fell onto your exposed skin and the brightness stung your eyes. you stepped out, finally turning to see his face one last time, waving goodbye swiftly as he pressed his fingers against the spot your lips had occupied. 

Chapter Text

"look at that!" you exclaimed, knees dangling over schlatt's shoulders. your arms lowered over his head for your hand to be in his line of sight as you used your finger to point to a creek. through the past few weeks since the day you spent together, the two of you had been inseparable. you were currently riding on his shoulders as he carried you through the woods. he drunkenly promised to take you down to the creek, and you held him to it. he was grumbling complaints about carrying you the whole time, but somehow you knew he didn't mind. the man had been near wrapped around your finger lately, making time for you nearly every day. you just let yourself in to his place every time his car was parked in front of it. you felt like the spoiled and loved child you always longed to be. you curled your fingers around his head for stability, the other hand boosting yourself up against the backpack he carried. his hands wrapped around your thighs and holding them in a tight grasp to keep you in balance.

"see? i know where i'm fucking going!" he snapped playfully, readjusting his grasp on your legs. he huffed, approaching the beautiful landscape.

"yeah, i'm so fucking sorry for doubting the man who has had us lost in the woods twice." you scoffed, lightly slapping his head. you knew the action was a mistake, seeing the glint in his eye. you could always tell when he had gotten an idea he was going to use to fuck with you. it showed in his eyes like a child. you felt his hands release you, immediately the lack of balance was enough to worry you. you gripped onto the backpack with one hand and the fabric of his shirt with the other. you squealed as he began to shake his body slightly, making you tip from left to right. he was somehow precise enough that you didn't face-plant into the ground. "i'm sorry! i'm sorry!" you squeaked out, trying to keep yourself planted on his shoulders through the chaos. he hummed at the response, gripping the sides of your legs once again and readjusting you against him. you grumbled lightly, preparing to be let down as he approached the creek. this was the first time the two of you had shared time together that didn't involve getting high in his apartment. it was refreshing to finally spend time outside again.

he squatted down, shaking the backpack from his shoulders and allowing you to place your feet to the grass. you stumbled to a standing position, racing down the bank of the creek as soon as you caught your balance. he watched you, carefully transporting things from the bag to his pockets. he began strolling along behind you at a reasonable pace once he had finished collecting from the backpack. you spotted a toad soaking up a mixture of sun and water from it's position on a rock with a light stream flowing over it. you kneeled, holding one hand in its path and touching one of its hind legs with another, causing it to jump onto your cupped hand. you slowly stood, careful not to scare the small creature in your hands. you turned to schlatt who was still catching up to you. you cupped your other hand above the toad as well, encapsulating it between your flesh. you took small steps towards him, watching his eyebrows raise at the sight of something hidden between your hands. 

"whatcha got there, kid?" he asked, pointing at your hands. you grinned, turning your hands to position the amphibian to face him when you unveiled the creature to him. you slowly removed the hand over the creature, and once  the hand had moved you were perplexed at the lack of what was once there. you squinted, unaware of when the creature had left your grasp. you were left staring at an empty hand and feeling slightly embarrassed at unveiling nothing in your hand. you glanced up at him, immediately taken aback by the sight, you cupped your hands back over your mouth. the baby toad had jumped up onto his nose, hopping further up his head. you couldn't suppress laughter at the sight. "what the fuck is on me?" he asked, almost seeming to be nonchalant about it. you did your best to answer, desperately trying to catch your breath between fits of laughter as the toad sat on his head. you got close to him, standing as tall as you could to repeat the motion you used to capture it. you tapped it's hind legs again, letting it land on your hands. you cupped it once again, this time facing the toad away from him as you unveiled it to him. you slowly unclasped it, letting him lay eyes on it for a moment before it hopped away. "gross..." he grumbled, watching it settle back on a rock. you rolled your eyes, punching his shoulder lightly. you sulked slightly as you watched it hop away, wanting to spend a little more time with it. "what? did you want it to turn into a prince?" he laughed at your sad eyes.

"that's a toad, not a frog, dumbfuck." you stated, wading once again forward through the stream. he followed behind, seemingly unimpressed with the nature surrounding. you looked into the distance in wonder, wishing he saw it the way you did. you enjoyed taking in the sights of the low-hanging trees, the glistening rocks under the sun, the clear stream of water. everything looked breathtaking. you turned to schlatt, coming up with an idea to keep these memories. "hey, do you have the camera we packed?" you asked, gesturing to the pockets of his cargo shorts. he slid his hands into a set of pockets, pulling a cheap disposable camera out of it. he outstretched it to you, looking slightly puzzled when you didn't snatch it from his grasp. you simply turned back around. "you look bored. you can be the camera man." you giggled, wading forward through the ankle-high waters quickly. 

"what a pleasure, thanks. it wasn't even my fucking idea to bring a camera." he thanked with sarcasm, pushing the camera back into his pocket. he was catching up with you while you turned slightly, standing in place to wait for him. you ignored his comment, only sending a wide smile at it, knowing you were being unfair. you giggled at his reaction to it, much to his exaggerated dismay. you tucked your body slightly behind a low hanging tree, looking at a connection of branches between two almost symmetrical trees. they were both parallel to the other, both planted evenly spaced from one another. one on each side of the land above the dipped formation of the creek, both growing slightly inwards, towards one another. it created a beautiful arch of branches overhanging into the creek. 

"get this little tree overhang thing!" you commanded him excitedly. you began getting out of the way of the shot, squatting behind a slope of rocks along the sides of the dip leading down to the creek. 

"yes, ma'am." his grouchy voice rang out, the low noise of the camera's snap following it. you took this as a cue to get back onto the path, meeting him back on course. you still led the ascent upstream with him still following slowly behind. your eyes fell to the stream, seeing a family of tadpoles become visible as the wind parted the leaves of the trees, letting the sun fall onto the water. you pointed excitedly down at them, looking between the small family and schlatt excitedly. he rolled his eyes, taking this gesture as a hint to take another photo. you watched lower himself down closer to them with the camera pressed against his eye. you heard the click moments before he raised himself back up, tucking the camera back within his pocket. you smiled, taking careful strategic steps forward to not disturb the small tadpoles. you looked forward, seeing rabbits race on the land above the creek. you watched the larger white rabbit hop swiftly and closely behind the smaller brown one. the two halted in their path, grazing on small red berries growing on the mossy plane above. you pointed up to them, hearing the camera click as your finger outstretched towards them.  he must have already seen you fixate on them and taken it upon himself to snap a photo. 

"you got us here late." you whined, "the sun is going to set soon." you observed, pointing up at the softening orange sun. you felt slightly sad by the lack of time, but still enjoying the sight of the soft tangerine tinge falling over his face. the way the light hit his eyes had the typical brown color pooling into a beautiful amber honey under his pupils. the color of the sunset kissed highlights into his hair, bringing out the lighter softer browns mixed into it. his skin seemed to glow under the hue, the sunlight soaking a glow into his wet forearms and legs. you watched him roll his eyes at your sentiment, unphased by the lack of time to explore. he was ready to go home at any moment. 

"forgive me, princess." he spat, sarcastically. he scoffed, laughing to himself while shaking his head slightly. "so ungrateful. should have left you home." he said, no real weight falling on his words. you pushed forward. seeing a small abrupt elevation in the formation of the creek floor, it made a tiny waterfall formation. you turned to schlatt, excitedly. his eyes met yours and saw the light in them, immediately knowing what the request would be. he sighed lightly, pulling the camera back to his eye. he moved closer to the sight, snapping a quick photo of it. once you had heard the little confirmation of the cameras click, you ran forward, finding your way through the creek as quickly as possible in an attempt to fight time. you wanted to get a bit further in because you knew the sunlight would betray you soon and give way to the moon once again. you hopped above the small rise in elevation and looked forward at the area that was not visible from the lower part of the creek. you looked down at your feet, a small strangely shaped rock rolling down to hit the tip of your soles. you squatted down to observe it further, scooping it up in your hands. it was a soft beige color and felt slightly hollow within. you smiled upon realizing it was a geode. you waited to hear schlatt's footsteps come above the elevation. upon hearing the small splash next to you, you slid your hand into one of his empty pockets and slid the geode into it. he looked shocked at the act, a tinge of offense painting over his face at the lack of permission you had while doing so. he laughed, "what the hell am i? your purse?" he took it out to inspect it, looking at the geode. "you want me to hold a fucking rock?" he asked slowly, trying to make sense of it. 

"it's a geode." you huffed, walking forward. you saw it go flying in front of you swiftly, hitting a nearby tree trunk with incredible force behind the throw and falling back down to the creek bed. you looked back at him, shocked by what you had just saw. your mouth hang slightly open as you were met with a nonchalant expression.  he just gave a lopsided smile in response to your expression. 

"what? i opened it for you!" he shrugged, seeing nothing wrong with it. it was so quick that you didn't even see it crack open. you calmed a little, seeing the good intentions behind it and racing forward to collect your geode once again. it was sandwiched between two larger rocks keeping it from drifting down the stream. you scooped it up, it was split almost perfectly. it had become two nearly equal size pieces. you looked into the centers, hearing schlatt approach to do so as well. beautiful shiny white clusters holding the sides of the shell were glistening in the diminishing light of the evening. there was a small bright almost golden cluster in the center. you smiled at it, seeing schlatt's hand laying flat and open beside yours. you placed them into his waiting hand so he could tuck them away. a darkening fell into the sky and you realized it was time to go back, feeling his now empty hand on your shoulder. "you about ready, kid?" he asked, gripping lightly. you shook your head, seeing fireflies glow in the more shaded area ahead. you shook his hand off of your shoulder, walking a little bit deeper in to see them closer. you saw a few of them flying near, waiting for them to come closer to you. you watched as a few became many in moments as they all let out a glow in sync. you saw three slightly above you and began to focus on the dark bodies flying overhead. you cupped your hands above you, capturing all three and holding your hands slightly open to see them glow. you watched them glow between your finger, looking at more of them ahead responding with a shimmering of their own.

"i haven't done this since i was a kid!" you laughed, straightening your arm out and opening your hands once again. they illuminated your palm once again before taking the freedom you had granted them, spreading their tiny wings and joining the cluster of insects once again. you ran to another cluster, catching them in your hands. however, you had stopped your movements to suddenly, your feet still sliding forward and falling out from under you. your legs straightened and your bottom hit the ground, your arms still in the air with the fireflies in them. "ow..." you groaned. thankfully, your bottom took most of the hit and your legs were fine.

"careful!" you heard from behind as you laughed. you turned your head to him, seeing him lowering the disposable camera from his eye. you found it odd, not knowing what he was capturing before you had taken his attention with your fall. he tucked it away and approached you, lowering a hand for you to use to hoist yourself up. you opened your hands again to give the bugs their freedom once again and replaced their absence with his wrist, him grasping onto yours in return. he pulled you to your feet easily and replaced your wrist with your hand, taking it into his own. "come on, kid. let's get back." he urged, turning to the way in which you came. the sky had now went from orange to a darkening blue. he reach into his pocket for a small flashlight and joined the clip attached to it with a belt loop on his pants. he adjusted the setting to illuminate as far into the path as possible. you wrapped your hand under his and stayed close to share the light with him. "did you have a good time?" he asked, his grip on your hand slightly relaxing. 

"of course." you hummed, following closely behind and mirroring his footsteps as to not fall in the darkened path behind him.

"you've been looking better lately." he said, out of the blue, "happier." 

"i am happier." you stated, affirming the thought. "these weeks have been the best of my life. i've never found anyone i actually wanted to spend my time with before."

"the best weeks of your life being getting high in some grown man's apartment isn't a comforting thought." he laughed, leading you gently behind him. you shivered lightly as you felt the water grow slightly cold around your ankles and the wetness of your shorts against your ass gave you goosebumps. he felt the vibrations against him and took you in from the corner of his eye. "you packed a change of clothes, right?" he asked, not remembering what all you two had shoved into the backpack waiting for you. 

"yeah, i knew i'd fall on my ass at least once." you sighed, "i figured it'd be more than once though." you replied truthfully, shaking your head slightly at yourself. 

"clumsy girl." he hummed, fondly. 

"boy with no sense of directions." you mocked, turning his attention to the slope formation he was passing. you recognized it from the moment you saw it. you were certain it was the way you had come and you squinted to find the backpack that rested on top of it. he turned his hips towards it, the flashlight now clearly illuminating a fabric strap lying above the creek. "hold the light for me and then toss it up so i can hold it for you." you instructed, climbing up the uneven mix of grass, mud, and rock. once high enough, you gripped the land above and hoisted yourself back up. you moved a few steps from the ledge to give him a place to lift himself up. you held your hands out while schlatt tossed the flashlight. you managed to catch it, moving it to be held from above to illuminate the area. he stumbled upwards, pulling himself up with a little more effort than it took you. you dropped the flashlight and reach the hand out help him up. 

he didn't seem to need the help, standing in front of you a moment later. you grabbed the light, digging through the bag to pull out a light nightdress. you figured it would be kind of late by the time you left, so you just brought your pajamas to change into. the light was turned towards you, still lying on the ground and illuminating the contents of the bag. you tossed schlatt an extra pair of socks and shorts he had packed that rested underneath your outfit. he emptied his pockets into the bag, and kicked off one of his shoes. you began to look for a place to change as you shivered. you were in a hurry to change out and decided to forego the idea. he was more focused on changing his socks anyways. you slid your top over your head, and adjusted your hair back down. you felt slightly embarrassed, the flashlight now felt like a spotlight illuminating you. the rush was strangely exhilarating though. you almost wanted him to see. you glanced over at him from the corner of your eye. he hadn't seemed to notice yet, so you continued undressing. you kicked off both of your shoes, standing on the dewy grass.

you unbuttoned and unzipped your pants before undoing your belt. you had an idea to take his attention to you. you carefully unlatched your belt, making sure to make no noise until it was loosened enough. then, you let it fall, the jangling of your belt hitting the ground caught his attention as you stepped out of them. you could see him taking in your form from the corner of your eye, but you made the direction of your gaze subtle enough make him think you couldn't see his mouth slightly parted at the sight of you. you stepped out of them, bending over to pick up your change of socks and a towel from the bag. you placed the towel down to have a place to sit while you changed your socks. you lowered your body onto it, sliding your socks down your ankles. you took another side glance at him, he was still watching. you fought a smile from appearing on your face at the sight of it. you wanted to see how far you could push it. you slid your socks on and turned your attention to the clasp of your bra. you unclipped it, and let it fall from your arms to the bag. from your peripheral vision, you watched him snap his head away from you finally. now the game you were playing with him was over, you pulled your nightdress over your head, let your arms find the openings for them, and put your shoes back on. you stood, shaking the towel and tucking it back in the bag with all of your former outfit. he followed suit and zipped it back up once he finished tucking his belongings away. he leaned down, hoisting it back onto his shoulders. he looked up at you while still crouched down. 

"you want on?" he asked, tilting his head towards his back. you smiled, rushing to his side. he moved more into a squatting position, bending his knees to prepare for the extra weight. you wrapped your legs underneath the backpack, and threw your arms around his neck. you rested your head on his shoulder and he turned his flashlight on once again. you looked over at the blue light of the creek and the reflection of moonlight in his eyes. 

"i hope we can live here someday." you yawned against him, "it's all i ever dreamed of." he stayed silent, still not agreeing to your fantasy. you nuzzled against his shoulder, feeling much warmer as you passed further away from the cool air of the water below. he wasn't the type to make promises unless he could turn them to a guaranteed fact. you never really know what the future holds, so it's impossible to promise it to someone. he just let out a tiny hum, barely even audible from the close proximity you were in. you let your hands dangle over his shoulder, trusting his grip on your thighs and careful steps. you took in his scent, warm and familiar. 

"are you hungry?" he diverted the subject awkwardly. he adjusted your position on his back, pushing you upwards and catching you in a tighter grip. you did feel a slight gurgle in your stomach at the thought of eating. you nodded against him, nuzzled close enough that even while not looking at you, he could feel the reply. you yawned against him again, feeling drowsiness set into you from the mix of being in your night clothes, the warmth you soaked from him, the fact you hadn't eaten yet, his familiar scent, and the warm memories of napping against him while faded on his couch. you couldn't withstand the urge to fall asleep before he had reach the car.

Chapter Text

hazy flickering lights came into view, street lamps of the apartment complex shone over the windshield. you fluttered your eyes back open, groggily letting a yawn slip. you heard the small whir of the engine cut off abruptly, as the jingle of his keys replaced it. your arms stretched downwards, adjusting your body to being awake and functional again. you sighed, smoothing down your night dress and rolled your head against the headrest. you let him come into view, his hands tucking his keys away. he slouched lightly in his seat, running a hand back through his hair. you noticed the corner of his eye shift to you.

"mornin', sunshine." he let out into the cool air of the car. his eyes looked soft against the light, it always contrasted so drastically to his rough voice. you pushed your lips into a light smile, eyes hooded and sleepy. the lights of the car faded out, leaving the only illumination to the flickering old lamps. you glanced up at them, moths holding onto the rays of bright light and covering the glass with their little wings. you looked up at them, wondering what it would feel like to be so free, yet so trapped. having the freedom to fly anywhere, but being bound and destined to one thing. you smiled at them, maybe they were happy with one thing. maybe they didn't want to travel any further. 

"what time is it?" you asked, turning your focus back to him. he pulled his phone out of his pocket, checking for the answer. he flashed the screen to you. 11:51PM. you sighed, knowing it would be a fight if you didn't find a way to sneak back in silently. your mother wouldn't appreciate you coming in so late. you bit your lip, trying to think of a solution. your eyebrows began to furrow, looking at the elevated windows to your room. you looked down at your feet, knowing you had no way to get up there. 

"what's on your mind?" he asked, lighting a cigarette, and pressing it to his lips. you took in the rich smell of it. you looked over at him, reaching your hand out and putting your index and middle finger against either side of it. you waited for him to take a drag and release it from his lips. once he had, you pressed it to your own, taking the smooth smoke into your throat and breathing it out. you took a few more in quick secession before handing it back. you sighed, releasing the built up smoke from your throat with every word.

"trying to think of a way in..." you admitted, "one that doesn't wake the bear. she sleeps in the downstairs area, and i gotta make it up there." you laughed, pointing to your window. his eyebrows furrowed as well, his fingers flicking ashes out the window. he rubbed his temples with the other hand, taking another hit of his cigarette. he turned over to you, glancing between you and the window to your room. he moved his fingers in front of your face, holding the cigarette towards your lips. you took it in, watching the tip glow red as you sucked in more smoke. he sighed, dropping a brown bag into your lap. you looked at it in confusion. you looked up at him, waiting for an explanation to what is inside.  

"you said you were hungry before you fell asleep. i picked up a sandwich, and got the photos developed while i was at it." you peeked into it, a neatly wrapped sandwich next to a plastic bag of photos. you flipped through them fondly, enjoying the way they turned out. underneath, was the broken geode he had thrown. both halves. you took the smaller one out, placing the photos back over the larger. you placed it onto his lap with a smile, wanting him to have a keepsake from the day. he looked at it with a light smile, blowing nicotine out the window again. "you can stay at mine." he breathed out, turning the geode over and looking at the crystal clusters. you felt slightly giddy about the offer. being invited to his own private world. a rush of relief fell over you as well, knowing you would be safe. "you can use the spare." he offered, watching you unwrap your food. you felt the cool bread against your fingers, bringing it to your face to take a bite. you began to eat, waiting for him to finish his cigarette before you got out. 

"thank you." you whispered, wiping your lips free of crumbs. 

"why are you thanking me? you just let yourself in my house anyway." he grumbled, rolling his eyes, but unable to fight a smile.

"you love me." you jabbed at him, smirking. "if you didn't you'd start locking your door." 

"whatever you say, kid." he said, monotone and light. the sound of his car door opening urged you to do the same. you tucked away the left overs of your food back into the brown bag, dropping your geode down in as well. you noticed that it was slightly less dirty than before, wondering if he had even went through the trouble of washing it off. you smiled, the gruff man that could never admit to being kind or having any feelings towards anything was always so thoughtful. you followed close behind him as he approached his door and fidgeted with his keys. the gentle jingle seemed to almost echo in smooth repetition. they clanked against the door, startling you as the noise broke the repetitive sounds. he turned the key, allowing himself to open and enter. you flipped the switch to turn on the light, following in behind him. you shut the door quietly behind you, almost out of fearful instinct. 

he went straight to the couch, clinking bottle to shot glass instantly. "fucking alcoholic." you giggled, taking the glass from his hand and throwing it back yourself leaving a sweet strawberry rim from your chapstick as you placed it back down. 

"you seem to be following in my footsteps." he bites back, his gravelly voice sounding sweet in your ears. "anyways, bedroom to the left upstairs. if you want a cigarette or a j, help yourself but, smoke it in my room or down here. there's a pack with both on the night stand. the folks will bitch up a storm if their room isn't perfectly up to par. worse, they'll interrogate me until i have to introduce the 17 year old that stayed in their room." he chuckled, throwing back a shot. "another thing, be out before noon. i have some company that i don't want you here for." he muttered, his tone darkening slightly. your mind tried to process what kind of person he could be referring to. a girlfriend? were his parents coming to town for some reason? he could read you well, seeing the curiosity painted painfully obviously over your face.  

"are your folks coming over? or are you having a girl over?" you laughed, smirking as you nudge him with your shoulder. his expression remained stoic, not budging at all from the comment. you retract your body from his, feeling an almost palpable tension coming from him. 

"i'm not taking questions. you have your rules, if you feel like they're going to be a problem-" the sound of him nearly slamming his glass on the table rang out and his now-free index finger stretched to point towards the door. "the door is there. i don't want you sneaking around here to see who it is. you get out of here before 12. no leaving at 12, no staying until 11:50 to catch a glimpse. you leave as soon as possible. your deadline is 11:30. you set the alarm clock if you have to. i don't care. got it?" he asked. his movements seemed angry, but his tone was more like a guiding figure. you knew it was for your own good, whoever it was. there was an odd sense of danger going off in your head, not from him personally, but from the way he described the terms. he was beyond serious. you gulped lightly, still taken aback by the aggression coming from him. settling for a nod as your only affirmation that you understood and intended to oblige to the terms. "words, kid." he demanded, pouring another glass. his knee had started to bounce aggressively, almost anxiously. 

"understood." you agreed, nodding your head lightly, backing slightly up towards the stairs. he noticed the fear in your face and movements, and decided to pat the seat next to him. despite your mistrust in the moment, you took it, settling down next to him. your hands gripped the seat, sitting stiffly. he poured another shot for you, urging it over to your side of the table. 

"i'm not trying to be an asshole or scare you. you flinch like a goddamn bunny." he mused, chuckling at your justified reaction to the grim and vague warning he had given you. you took the shot, your face scrunching lightly at the taste. you looked down at your feet, seeing the small distance between yours and schlatt's. the alcohol hadn't hit yet, making you wonder when the two of you had gotten comfortable enough to be so close when sober. you slid your leg slowly towards his, ghosting them against his. "i'm just looking out for you." he breathed out, filling your glass once again and taking his down. you took yours immediately once again, taking the edge off. you nodded to him, flashing the slightest curve of your lips barely able to be considered a smile. "anyways," he stood, his back turned to you. "i'm gonna get a cigarette and get to bed. i'll leave my door open, if you need anything."

"goodnight, schlatt." you finally spoke, watching his frame disappear up the stairs. you still felt tense, shaking as you fill both glasses to the brim. you decided that it would be the quickest way to get to sleep at a decent hour. insomnia wasn't foreign to you. sober, your body would usually just keep going until your mind shut off and you couldn't hold your eyes open anymore. you heard the flick of schlatt's lighter from the thin meeting of the ceiling and floor. you raised one glass, looking at them both solemnly before deciding to take both at once. you opened your throat, holding your head back and closing your eyes, dropping one shot into your mouth. the moment it disappeared down your throat, you fought the urge to scrunch your face and downed the next. once it was digested into your throat, you allowed your face to finally react instinctively. you looked up the stairs at the soft light of his room illuminating the stairs. you still felt a slight giddy feeling in your stomach. you weren't sure as to why. you had been here several times, just never  the frightful conversation was slowly fleeting from your mind, the alcohol doing its work to clear your mind. you don't know how long you enjoyed your thoughts being silent. you snapped back to reality when you noticed that the light over the staircase was gone.

you twisted the cap back on the bottle, bringing the two glasses to the sink. you turn on the water, enjoying the cool feeling of it dripping down your fingers as you wet down the glass. you reach for the dish soap, allowing small little drops to fall into the glass. it had a light citrus scent to it, methodical movements of the rough thin sponge under your fingers working the soap around let it waft up to your nose. you spun one glass over the sponge, letting the soap spread throughout the entirety of the glass. you heard a crash from the living room, startling you to your drunken core. you spun towards the source of the noise, accidently dropping the glass in the process. your eyes finally saw the source of the initial noise, jambo running through the living room and causing a book to fall off a nearby shelf. however, you were now more focused on the mess you had made. you heard rustling upstairs, tears welling in your eyes in both humiliation and fear. you heard the familiar sound of the creaky floors of the apartment, tears traveling down your cheek as you collect the pieces with your hands. the stinging sensation of sharp glass slicing into your hands only made you drop them once again. the lower on the stairs you heard motion, the more panic that had set into your mind. you heaved with sobs, collecting them regardless of the pain. your hands bled down to your dress, tiny fragments burying themselves into your fingers and palm. your chest heaved to the point your throat began to close up. it was like there was no more air left in the room, you could only take in shallow amounts, like the world was closing in on you. you gripped the glass in your hands in an attempt to hide your mistake from your mother. 

not even realizing in the moment of fear that's not who was approaching. 

schlatt rushed into the room, seeing you crying on the floor, gasping for air, and covered in blood dripping from your hands to your clothing. you sobbed, shaking and rocking back and forth with anxiety, moving your hands up to shield yourself. you prepared for the hit, to feel a large hand in your hair pulling you to your feet to scream at you. you couldn't look up to snap yourself out of your horror. you wailed, like a frightened child. you took in hurried shallow breaths, feeling as if your throat was closing off. you begged whatever gods there may be to just be able to breathe. being met with whines rather than an explanation, lead him to his knees in front of you. he was taking your arm into his hand to outstretch it toward him. he turned it under his grasp, taking in the damage and trying to make sense of what had happened. he dropped your arm, trying to piece together a narrative. he didn't dare to ask you, knowing you wouldn't be able to choke it out. 

"i'm sorry," is all you could manage, repeatedly saying it lower and lower with each intoxicated murmur. a soft golden light enveloped the room, previously only touched by the dim light it shared with the living room. with the flip of the switch he had finally saw the source of the damage, the broken pieces had become so tiny after the second drop that they were not visible without the assistance of the kitchen light. he kept composure the entire time, surprisingly, but his knitted brows had dropped significantly upon seeing the source of the problem. he still seemed cautious of your reaction. 

"it's a fucking glass." he deadpanned, "i can get a shot glass damn near anywhere." oblivious to what could solicit such a despair from you. his mind landed on the amount of alcohol you had in your system. he dropped down once again, "you're wasted." he whispered, almost to himself. your tears had slightly subsided since being met with him rather than who your inebriated mind had thought would enter. you moved your hand to your face to wipe the remaining tears away, but the motion was cut short by a grip of your wrist. your hand was now hanging limply in the air, being lowered back down by him.

"you're going to get blood all over you." he stated, swiping calloused palms under your eyes. his other hand collected bunched fabric on the waist of your dress tightly into his, giving one simple command, "spread your legs out." confused, you still followed his order, lying them out straight in front of you. he shook his hand, causing a ripple effect down the rest of the fabric. the glass sprung slightly into air before hitting the cold linoleum floor. "now, stay still." he said, standing to collect a broom that you hadn't even noticed in your panic to hide the mess as quickly as possible. he gave your abdomen one last pat, smoothing his hands down the skirt's fabric, checking for any other shards before placing the broom's bristles between your opened legs. he collected all of the pieces in the dustpan in one swift motion, making you feel even more foolish. he discarded them, and offered a hand down to you.

"i'll get blood on you." you protested, sniffling the last of your tears away with a smile.

"it's fine." he grumbled, growing slightly impatient wanting to get back to bed. you held your hand up to him, not taking his in fear of a shard poking into his skin or being buried deeper into yours, but you allowed for him to take your wrist. you stumbled to your feet, feeling twenty times more drunk as you tried to stand, toppling over against the counter and leaving a crimson handprint. you tried to back up to grab something to clean it, but were urged ahead by the grip on your other arm yanking you forward. "i'll get it in the morning." he countered your actions, pulling you further towards the living room. you felt like some sort of ragdoll, being pulled with ease despite not even allowing yourself to go limp. you tried to fight his pull on you, but your feet just kept dragging behind him.  maybe you were too drunk to put any real effort into it, carefully repeating his steps as you ascended up the stairs. 

"how the fuck did you manage to slice yourself up that bad?" he asked, lowering his foot down on the top step. he didn't hold any anger or malice in his voice, just his typical gravelly tone. you stumbled your way up, focusing all your efforts on not falling down the stairs before answering. once you had steadied yourself, you followed him to the small bathroom. he slid his back against the sink, allowing for you to share the small space. 

"i panicked, picked it up, then dropped and broke it again. tried to get the tiny pieces up but they got stuck." you slurred, standing between him and the toilet. he hummed slightly, dropping the lid of the toilet over the seat. his hands fell flat on your shoulders, applying a downwards pressure to urge you to bend your knees and sit. you didn't protest, dropping to sit on the lid. he rummaged through his medicine cabinet, grabbing a set of tweezers and a small plastic bag. he placed both on the sink, before temporarily departing the room. when he returned, he had a pair of scissors in hand and a pair of boxers. you giggled at the sight, wondering what he intended to do with them. he held his alcohol better than you, but you knew he wasn't exactly sober either. the scrunch of his eyebrows in confusion lead more amusement out of you, gripping on the toilet seat as you slightly hunch over in a fit of laughter. 

"what? i don't keep bandages around." he grumbled, "i'm not a dumbass who picks up glass with my bare hands." he laughed, placing the scissors down on the small counter opposite the tweezers and bag. he ruffled his hands through his hair, sighing in a way that felt like he was mentally preparing himself. 

"gross. you're going to put your underwear on my hands?" you asked, unable to stop your laughter. 

"you're such a baby." he groaned, his hand massaging his temples before turning back to you. "they're fucking clean." he stated, throwing them at you with no real force behind the act. they fell over your face, finally stopping your laughs and replacing them with a squeal. you mentally cursed him, plucking them off of your face and throwing them back to him. this time, his drunken laughter filled the room as he placed them back down on the counter with the scissors. he dropped to his knees in front of you, taking one of your wrists into his hands and turning your palm to face him. he ran his fingers over your open palm, trying to search for any shards of glass. he was careful enough to feel around the pieces without cutting his own fingers. once he had gotten a feel for it, he took the bag from the counter. he stretched both ends away from one another, opening it before grabbing the tweezers. he pulled a pair of glasses from the counter, sliding on a thin framed pair of aviators and steadied the tweezers in his hand.

"count to three." he asked, placing the tweezers around a shard and locking his eyes back up at you.

"one...two...thr-" he didn't wait for you to finish, yanking a shard out. he placed it in the bag, lowering his tweezers to your palm again. "why tell me to count if you're just going to cut me o-" he plucked another.

"if i wait for you to finish, you're not distracted by speaking." he yawned, moving his head closer to your hands to focus on the last shard lodged in your left hand. he looked back up at you, waiting for you to speak once again. "count." he urged, wrapping the tweezers around the glass once again. you shook your head, your vision in a soft blur from your intoxication. it didn't particularly hurt in this state.

"i'm fine. it's not so bad." you slurred, watching him dislodge the piece from your hand. you let your hand go limp at the side of the toilet, now facing the right hand up towards him as he let the grip of the tweezers release the shard of glass in the bag. you winced, looking at the damage to this hand. there was not as many shards, just one. however, it was much larger and deeper. he furrowed his brow at the sight, looking up at you as if for confirmation to continue as he gripped it with the tweezers. you nod, closing your eyes tightly as you waited for the pain. surprisingly, you were too drunk to even feel it. when your eyes fluttered open, it was already gone and he was standing at the sink, cutting his boxers. he had cut both legs off, one cut into two parts and the other being held underneath the sink as he turned the faucet on over it. "i'm sorry you're spending your night cleaning up after me." you mumbled, looking down at your bloodied hands in shame. 

"don't sweat it. i basically took you in, this is my responsibility now." he stated, seeing it as the most normal thing in the world. you never understood his willingness to do what he does. maybe he was just as lonely as you were. maybe it was just a pity he took on you. he wrung the fabric dry and turned the nozzle off. returning to his previous position in front of you, he took your hand and wiped the cold damp cloth over your palms, soaking up the red mess. "it's something i chose to do. you keep the silence away, even if it's by being a drunk nuisance." he laughed, switching between your hands to wipe the other clean. 

"do you just take pity on me?" you laughed, staring at your clean hand to ensure the bleeding would not start again before placing it back down.

"i don't pity anybody. life fucks everyone over at one point or another." he said, wiping your hand clean, sliding the rag in-between your fingers. "you just make for good company. living a quiet life becomes a bore after a while. i like to be alone, but complete solitude isn't good for anyone." he muttered, fixated on clearing your hands of the pesky red flow, applying pressure on the one cut that has not stopped bleeding. 

"why me?" you ask, "why do you choose me to spend your time with?" searching for an answer in his eyes, any semblance of a reasoning.

"why waste time on this conversation that you're too plastered to be able to remember in the morning?" he sighed, reaching for the other two pieces of cut cloth. he wrapped one delicately over your hand, pulling it taught and tying tightly to keep pressure on your hand. "can you move it good?" you pumped your fist to ensure that the wrapping would hold, with a nod upon seeing the result. you watched him repeat the process, his hair falling over his eyes. you began using your free hand to gather the light coating of sweat on his forehead and slick his pretty waves back. you smiled tenderly, enjoying the sight of him tending to you gently as opposed to his normal gruff persona. he backed away from your touch, the tension in his brow increasing as he tied your other hand. he ran the cleaning cloth over cold water, letting the red liquid run down the drain. he waited filling several minutes of silence with a light hum until the water ran clear. he wrung the rag, rotating the entirety of the rag under the flow of the faucet. once satisfied, he wrung the rag a final time, turning off the flow of the tap. he bent over you, his breath hitting your face. the smell of fresh nicotine and menthol fanned your face. your noses could nearly touch with the miniscule distance between you. you tried to lock eyes with him, but they stay glued low. you shift your eyes lower to try and find the center of his current attention.

"spread," he urged, patting one of your thighs. he was calm and seemed to see no problem with the request. your breath caught in your throat, hesitantly abiding by the request. you moved your legs apart, letting your knees fall on either side of his. you watched his hand carefully, seeing him slide it under the fabric of your dress. your breath hitched, seeing his hand move slow and with purpose. he was careful with his hand, not making any sort of connection with your inner thigh. you looked up at him, his eyes focused as his fingers slightly stuttered under it. he flattened his palm against the piece of the fabric that had soaked in your blood, taking the rag from the sink. with the stretch of his hand, his middle finger lightly brushed your clothed mound. you tried not to let out a gasp, knowing this wasn't a sexual act. the most shameful part of it was your disappointment that it was innocent. you seemed to prepare for it to be subconsciously.  he scrubbed the spot with the cold water. the light dripping of cold water on a bare section of your thigh made you tense, chills running up your body. you kept watching his face, too embarrassed to take in the scene below. you didn't like that you felt a mild excitement seeing his hand snake under your dress and taking in breaths from his mouth just barely spaced from yours. the cold water worked the redness out of the cloth and slowly it faded into nothing. you weren't able to look down at the movement under your dress, drunkenly lost in a trance as you scanned his face. when there was no further stain for him to work out, you didn't know that the intoxicating closeness would be lost. you felt a slight sadness when his hand closed into a fist, lightly brushing against your most sensitive spot even more as his fingers curled in towards his palm. the light quick swipe made you shiver, keeping your eyes locked on him as he pulled away from the close proximity of your bodies being so near. "don't look at me the way you do. it's not going to be good for either of us if you get what you're begging for."

"why won't you ever stop saying vague shit?" you scoffed at his response. he rolled his eyes, discarding the baggy of broken glass in the trashcan. 

"nevermind, maybe i'm misreading." he moved his way to the exit of the bathroom, keeping his back towards you as he leaned against the wall. 

"what do you mean?" you asked, longing to wedge your way into his psyche. to understand all of his ramblings that he kept light and imprecise. you never really knew what he meant when he brought in odd conversation when the two of you seemed to get too close.

"not important. i'm going to get a smoke and go to bed. you're free to join." he waved his hand before turning the corner to his room. you stood, gripping the wall for balance as you stumbled to his room. you were surprised at how put together it was. everything held a place neatly to accommodate the lack of space. he sat up against the headrest, legs outstretched over most of the bed bent at the knee to fall over the side of the mattress. you watched him light the cigarette, his soft hair now falling freely over his face again and his eyes fixated downward as he flicked the lighter. with a slight dizzy sway, you took the agonizing walk of shame over to him, settling to sit below his bent knees. you groaned at the sight of the nightstand being too far away to reach, meaning you would have to stumble around more. "too fucking drunk to walk ten steps?" he laughed, leaning forward to put the butt against your lips. you took it in, watching him grab the ashtray and pack once again. you greedily hogged all the smoke in, taking a deep puff. you enjoyed the way the smoke made you feel even more lightheaded in your drunken state, every inhale felt smoother than the last. he lit yet another, now sitting up straight to keep the ashtray close to both of you on his knee. you groaned, letting your head hit his shoulder as you leaned toward him.

"i don't cuddle." he grumbled, pushing your head lightly to the side. "why are you in my bed anyways? there's a perfectly good chair right there?" he motioned towards a swivel chair accompanying a desk neatly tucked into the corner of the room. your eyes traveled the distance between the chair and where you sat, knowing you would never make it there on foot in your state. you whined, letting your head leave his shoulder from the push.

"it's too far." you groan, flicking an ash into the glass tray. you let your wrist linger against his thigh for a moment, soaking in the contact and the light vibration of his laugh traveling down his body.

"lightweight." he comments, taking a long drag. his eyes seem to soften though, taking advantage of the moments that will soon be gone from both of your memories and replaced with a throbbing headache. he used his free hand to interlace his fingers in your hair, pulling your head back to his shoulder again. you took another drag, this time leaving more of your forearm to lean against his plush thigh as you flicked away a growing ash. the fleeting moment was soaked in, both of you setting aside the circumstances to enjoy the heat of one another. it was simple and chaste, but still felt sweet. his hand stayed in your hair, lightly trailing fingers down the back of your neck while his fingers massaged your lower scalp. you enjoyed the feeling, a chill shooting through your spine like lightning. you leaned into his fingers, throwing your head back to feel his fingers on more of your head. you moved your fingertips along his thigh as you raised the cigarette to your lips again. you sighed out the smoke, placing two fingers on his leg with your wrist leaning over it. you kept the index and middle lifted over the ashtray, letting the ash grow above it. you sought out more contact, both of you too hesitant and awkward to take it. 

"not my fault that you're an alcoholic." you grumbled, turning your neck to press the right side of your neck to his shoulder. you felt the loose fabric of his worn down shirt against your cheek. you felt his fingers stop moving against your scalp, falling slightly below to your neck. he gathered some of your hair, yanking it backwards causing your head to tilt back with a wince of pain. it was done with a certain gentle playfulness, with only enough force to take you slightly aback. "ow, what the fuck?" you asked, taking your head away from his shoulder as he released your hair. he laughed, slightly doubled over with his hair falling over his face. from the side, all you could see was his wide smile that made your current disdain fade a little. you still didn't give way to a smile, flicking your ash hard against the ashtray while he doubled over with his face closer to it. the force you put into the movement lead some of the ash to go into his face, evident from his flinch and cough. 

"fuck you." he snickered, smearing a grey streak across his cheek as he tried to wipe it off. you took your last hit of your cigarette before crushing the filter against the glass of the tray, watching him do the same. he groaned, placing the ashtray back on the nightstand, and leaning back in the bed. he let his back fall against the mattress. you looked at him, with his body plastered across it, you finally let the realization hit that you were in his bed. you tensed up, still watching him as his eyes fell shut for a few moments. you blew out the smoke in your lungs, watching thin white clouds envelop over his torso as he let his out as well. his shirt had ridden up, leaving a thick strip of hair leading to the waistline of his loose shorts. you took it in shamefully, not really seeing much of what a man's body looks like before. you watched it intently as the skin below it would rise and fall with his breath. you watched it so closely that you did not even feel the gaze of his now-open eyes falling between you and the center of your concentration. "what are you doing?" his voice makes you flinch like you had been caught in some vulgar act. it was natural to be curious. it was natural for you to be curious about a man's body at your age. you tried to suppress your shame with that reasoning in your mind. you tried to believe what you were doing wasn't wrong, even though said-man was basically raising you more than either of your parents at this point in time. he was trying his best to be a fatherly figure in your life and resist the temptation you kept bringing between the two of you. you seemed to go against him at every turn, yearning for more than a parental guidance and friendship. 

"nothing." you try to keep your voice stable, but can't stop it from raising in pitch during your child-like denial to acknowledge your actions. instead of switching your attention to his face, you stare into the doorway. you focus on the texture of the wood on the door, trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible.

"you were staring at my junk." he stated, not even asking why. he didn't push for an answer, knowing that you would either continue in denial or explain yourself.

you chose the ladder, stuttering out a response. "it wasn't your junk. i just-" you breathed in, deciding your mind's own denial and faux reasoning would be your best option. "it's normal to be curious. you never looked at tits when you were 17?" you argued, feeling him sit up behind you. you felt tense, trying to scrub your ego of the current humiliation while you wait for his response. you wished you had just chanced it at your own home rather than sinking into this current dilemma. 

"curious?" he muttered, almost mockingly. he tilted your head back to him, his breath smelling even heavier of menthol and nicotine than before. you kept your gaze shifted to the side, as far away from him as possible. "you've never..." he trailed off, his voice filling with a sort of amusement.

"shut up." you groaned, your eyes finally meeting his to shoot a glare. 

"not anything to be ashamed of, just didn't know you were that pent up." he teased, flicking your nose. you held your hands over your pained nose and leaned forward once again. you sighed, angered by the comment slightly. you tried to convince yourself that it wasn't the case, that it had nothing to do with him or your lack of action. you tried to tell yourself it was just genuine curiosity, nothing more. 

"like i said, i just haven't really seen much of anyone else's body. i got curious. i'm not perverted!" you protested, looking at your feet.

"you're begging me to fuck you. you think i didn't notice the way you tense up over me just trying to help you clean off your clothes? you undress in front of me. you let a grown man touch you and chalk it up to a drunken mistake instead of me being out of my fucking mind. you spend all your time in some loser's apartment with jack shit in return." his voice was rough like sandpaper and his anger grew with every word. however, you couldn't tell if it was directed at you or himself. "what i'm doing is fucking insane. you don't need to be fucked up ten times worse." he groaned out, his hands on his head. he slicked his hair back slightly as he held his forehead in his palms and let his fingers slip back into loose strands of his hair. you felt that maybe he was drunker than he let on, only sobered up by his need to care for you. he wasn't making sense in his erratic speech and actions. his voice would randomly pause or slur. all of this was so far in contrast with his former carefree and almost playful attitude earlier. his willingness to be close to you, the banter between the two of you paired with the harmless physical revenge. the drinks were slowly spiraling into a low. it's easy to deplete the initial happiness of being drunk and letting the intoxication become a downer. 

"shh, you're just as drunk as i am." you soothe, patting your hand on his thigh with a chuckle, letting it linger too long after the motion was over. you kept your hand around it, being just light enough with the touch for it to feel natural. you couldn't even deny the truth in some of his words before it spiraled into self hatred. you maybe tried to get a reaction from him a little too much. you chased the electricity you felt when he had his big hands on your waist. you always had some underlying feelings, never really believing it would go anywhere. you couldn't help but feel desperate and dirty for those feelings. he was doing his best to correct that mistake, and you selfishly wanted more. you were pushing for more of his attention, the only form of attention he refused to give you. he gave you his time. he gave you physical closeness, even if it felt more intimate than he may have wanted it to be. knowing that there was some of the sexual feelings shared deep down, you tried to seek it out. playing games with him by undressing in front of him just hours previous. you even felt hyperaware of his fingers going too far under your clothes in an act that was meant with good intention. you slowly let the hand resting over his thigh move, tracing light circles with your fingertip on the nearest exposed skin. 

"stop it." he demanded, his hand planting itself over yours with enough willpower to halt the movement on his skin. your fingers squished into the soft skin from the pressure of his hand. he lifted his slowly, giving you a chance to retract yours as he lowered his back to the mattress. you kept yours there, playing with a loose thread on his shorts with your fingers. you twirled it around your pinky, looking for a physical distraction from the drunken mesh of emotions between both of you.

"just relax." you sighed, "everything will be just fine tomorrow. we'll go back to normal and wont even remember any of this, like you said earlier. 

"stop moving your goddamn hands." he spat, gripping onto your hand. you looked at the hand on his thigh, realizing you had been inching it up in order to reach the loose fiber. your palm laid over the upper side, while you were weaving your pinky around the seam of the inner thigh. you pulled back as if you had burned yourself. retracting your hand in fear of making yourself look even more like you hopelessly fawned over the closeness he had let you take much too far. you sighed, shaking your head.

"i'm sorry, i didn't mean-" you rushed, lowering your head as his voice overpowered yours.

"you need to get over whatever weird obsession you have here." he asserted, "you need to find someone your own age to get rid of your curiosity, and leave me the fuck alone." he grumbled, reaching for another cigarette. his hands fumbled with the pack, in a manner with no real finesse. he maneuvered his fingers sloppily, struggling to keep the pack in his hands through the rough actions against it. the pack fell between his knees to the floor. he cursed under his breath, cut off by a yawn. you moved to assist him, trying to distract yourself from his accusations of you. you leaned in towards it, your arm going down the space between his legs as you leaned over him. your chest was on his left thigh, your head falling against the right. you were able to reach them, despite the lack of grace in your current position. you pulled them up, flicking the top for him and pushing one of the orange filters up with your thumb. he snatched it with two fingers, letting you place it back to the nightstand in your current awkward placement. you grabbed the lighter, flicking it and slowly raising it to the tobacco rod hanging from his lips. you watched him take a puff, making sure the entire tip would glow red evenly. upon seeing it, you placed the lighter back down. his hands began freeing your neck of the hair that hung over your shoulder. he worked his fingertips slowly, working every strand over your back and sending shivers down your spine with the occasional brush of your nape. 

"what do you want from me?" he groaned, as you planted your head fully on his right thigh. "why do you keep coming here? you're driving me up the fucking wall. what do you want from me?" he repeated the question, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. a gentle gesture fighting against the agency of his hardening voice. 

"i just like the time we spend together. i like having a friend." you insist, trying to soothe the tension in the air and myriad of emotions. 

"bullshit. you're drunk in my bed with your head against my dick at wee hours of the fucking night."  his hand tightened during its journey to your name your nape as he brushed more hair out of your face, grabbing in what hair he could hold between his tightened knuckles. he didn't pull, but his fists stuttered with his words, "and i'm just fucked up enough to enjoy it. i keep letting you come back. i get too drunk and let your pretty face get to me. i care about you, and that's why i can't fucking do this to you." he tensed harder as you turned your head to lay flat on his leg, tugging your hair slightly as his body jerked slightly. you could see his face through your blurred vision, the wave of drunken peace and drowsiness coming over you. it had finally put your mind to bed, and you didn't care that he looked down at you next to his hardening dick with such an intense feeling of frustration. you didn't even acknowledge his disdain at the way his generosity had backfired into this uncomfortable moral dilemma. the undeniable spark being there, but knowing the ramifications that would come with it. knowing the implications that spark held for his character. being lonely and miserable enough to become the guidance figure in a teenage girls life. and being sleazy and obscene enough to let it spiral. 

you raised your head, sitting back up. he watched you carefully as you took your head off at him, hoping that you would return the room he had planned for you and you could both go back to normal, with a few boundaries being set. you watched him, slowly moving your knees beneath you as you adjusted your body back onto the bed. he furrowed his brow, upset by his silent wish not being heard. with not enough willpower to completely remove you from the room in his intoxicated loneliness. you chased it out, feeling too drunk to care how it would affect both of you. you leaned up to him, tilting your head in an attempt to catch his lips. you closed your eyes, seeking out the one form of attention he wouldn't give you. you were met with his open palm under your lips. disappointed, you reach down to his thigh, your palm falling uncomfortably close to his dick. he took your face in his hand, holding it in a death grip since his the lack of his hand formed a gap between your lips once again. a gap he would regret letting you close.

"stop it. go to your room." he demanded lowly against your lips, grasping your hand as it began to move against him. you rolled a leg over his knee, lowering yourself onto it. two drunken fools bickering over inner desires that should have been kept internal. you freed your hand from his grasp and wrapped your arms around his sides. he didn't release your face, keeping your sleepy eyes focused on him. his eyes darkened, his pupils blown as he lowered his face. his nose brushed against your ear lobe while he spoke into it. "if you can't get out of my bed, i'll have to put you to sleep. i'll get your curiosity cured real fucking quick." he spoke lowly as your hips rolled lightly against his tensed leg, "you're so fucking gone." he groaned, leaning back to hold your hips. he gave in too easily, gripping them under his large hands. he hiked your dress fabric with one of his hands, sliding it under to knead the flesh of one hip. with a feel for where to grasp them, he began to move them against himself. he found a rhythm for rocking you on his thigh, he kept his eyes on your face as it tilted back. your swollen clit took even the slightest friction as a blessing, enjoying the clothed motions.

you let out soft noises, quickly realizing the pace becoming agonizingly intense. the repeated friction with no sign of letting up was pushing you over the edge. you closed the gap between your bodies, falling over him, coming undone already.  the smell of cigarettes and whiskey from his breath, paired with a light musk from him inebriated you even further. you felt a knot in your stomach, knowing what was coming as you tried to put all your weight into your hips pushing down to keep yourself from moving to his torturous pace. to draw this out a little longer, knowing that this would never happen again. no matter how hard you tried, he overpowered you easily. his hands gripped onto your hips too tightly and was able to move you too easily. he smirked, feeling all of the tension in your body involuntarily leaving me. "stop-!" you mewled out, trying to distract yourself from the orgasm drawing near, "i'm not- im going to-" you stumbled over your words, but he seemed to be experienced enough to get the picture from your movements alone. 

he did not give in to your wishes, keeping his agonizing rate of rolling your hips steady. you knew he didn't want to, amusement painted over his face the minute you started to go limp against him. he knew if you were this easy, he could force a few more out of you with ease. he let you cum on his thigh, knowing that he would put you straight to bed if he could continue to make your mind go so numb. already, you were struggling to form sentences. it was like a game to him in his state. his pupils were blow with lust, and he used the fabric between you as some fake solace that he wasn't really doing anything for his pleasure despite his twitching and throbbing against you when he had moved your hips a little too hard. he wasn't putting his dick in you, he was just getting your tension to go away so that you wouldn't push further. he wanted to get your frustration out, so that you could go back to how things were before he ignited the fire with his hands on your hips in the kitchen. both of you could get over this stupid feeling you both knew was there. lonely longing for something that was wrong and would ruin both of you. he knew how irrational it sounded, how every sentence in his mind sounded worse than the previous. he prayed that he was right about neither of you remembering it.

but, for now, he took in the sight he had imagined during shameful nights. your face rolled against his shoulder, your upper half going limp while both of your legs wrap around one of his. they kept him in a death grip, making sure that he could still maneuver you against it through your high. his hand above the cloth started to kneed your ass, while the one underneath hooked into the hip of your panties to keep you moving. despite the sexual nature of the act, it was the most daring he had been. you were in pure bliss, eyes squeezed shut, face flushed as you pulsed against his thigh. you were gripping the sheets with one hand, and the other against the fabric of his shirt pooling under your tensed knuckles. he released you lightly, letting you come down from your first orgasm just a bit, knowing he could push you over the edge again easily. your lips were puffy and pink from biting down on them, your eyes were droopy and sweet as they fluttered open to take him in. to see him in the beautiful haze of drunken post-orgasm bliss. his face blurred in your sights, but he never looked so pretty. his eyes were hungry as he looked at your strained face, flipping you off of him. taking in your frame from under your arms, he positioned you leaning against the pillow. too hazy too fight back, you accepted his pull on you.

you held yourself up with your elbows, straightening your back against the pillow and wooden bedframe. you waited for him to position himself over you, surprisingly not seeming to make any attempt to do so. he straightened his own body against the frame, dipping one hand between your thighs. he massaged a few circles into your thighs. his thumb brushed over your clit, already working into it again. you shuttered, legs clamping his hand into a prison with walls of the softest flesh. "no, stop." you whined, his fingers unimpressed by your strength as he continued to rub you through your underwear. you watched the waves formed in your dress from the motion under it, sleepily losing the fight to keep your thighs tensed. they gave way, giving his hand the chance to move to work with fingers more precise than the thumb. his hand fell over your clothed mound, his index and ring finger spread your lips while the middle gained better leverage over your clit. 

"the night is still relatively young. i say you got another hour in you, if i give up now." his fingers massaged down your labia with his words, running them down feel the moisture of your entrance through your panties, smirking at the feeling. "i'll walk you to your room right now, if you're tapping out." he laughed lowly, swiping back up to your sensitive nerves , oversensitive and begging for a break. he feels urgent, like he's finally enjoying a game of his own in response to all of yours. "and if you don't leave this room, you'll sleep like a fucking stone." you reach to grip his wrist, taking it into the tightest grasp you could muster, but his arm overpowered yours easily. the friction of his fingers and the slight roughness of the fabric was heavenly. in this moment, the whole room was heaven. the cold air meshed with the heat radiating from your body, cooling your red cheeks. the soft dim light was softening your blurry vision, no colors harsh under the mesh of watercolor blur in your eyes. soft browns of his furniture, light beige walls, cream colored sheets, a soft light blue of his blanket. they swirled into one another through hooded eyes and forming tears. your back arched up into his fingertips on its own, hitting your second high. his thumb dragged a falling tear down to your chin, smiling at the sight of your glassy eyes as you gasped for air. 

"you look so fucking pretty when you cry for me." he groaned, grinding himself into his other hand. his voice was hushed, sounding slightly parched. he begged you with the silver tongue of a starving man, as if he was begging to devour you whole. he knew that he couldn't, but he let himself enjoy  "show me how good you feel. you're so gone. let it out, cry for me baby." he leaned over you, placing two fingers in your agape mouth. he waited for you to wrap your lips around them, pumping them against the beginning of your throat. his long fingers hit deep into your mouth with ease, making you gag. with the act luring more tears down your cheeks, he was satisfied, pulling them out with a small pop. your legs quivered, your thighs shaking his lingering hand. "god, i would love to fucking ruin you. use your pretty little mouth better." he groaned, pressing his soaked fingers against your clothed heat. the saliva soaked through the thin fabric, suctioning slightly against your clit. you yelped as his fingers moved, feeling the cloth less than his pressure against it this time. you choked out sobs, throwing your head back against the headrest. you loved the sound of his voice drowning out your contradicting babble of, 'stop,' 'more,' 'please,' 'no,' and enjoying your wincing falling on deaf ears. your legs felt like jell-o, shaking his already increasingly fast fingers. ecstasy and agony mixed so well when mixed with the sensitivity from your previous spasms. "you like that? is this what you wanted?"

you try to nod your head, cut off by your third high as your head lolled back onto the pillow. you squeezed your eyes shut, letting your sobs overtake you as you gathered the fabric of his shirt under your knuckles. you brought your knees together, clenching him in your thighs as you rolled to the side to face him. "you gonna stop being a fucking brat?" he ridiculed, taking your hair into his hand from the base of your neck. he pulled it back, leaving you to let out a whine, followed by incomprehensible babble. he smirked, amused at the way you were so sensitive and easy to get off. he throbbed imaging how many more he could work you into if he had been as cruel as he acted. for now, he enjoyed the sight, you fucked out in his bed, braindead. watching you yawn as you soak in the warmth of the hand against your thigh and the lack of space between your chests. neither of you really knew when that space was closed, too lost in the moment to realize. he rubbed his thumb over your lips, pent up and leaking through both pairs of fabric over him. 

you heard a crinkle of lamination, opening your groggy eyes momentarily through your rest. you were met with your own smile, quickly being discarded face-down to his nightstand. your arms outstretched with a cluster of tiny insects illuminating their little rumps in your hands. a wide glowing smile taking in the sight in front of you, the beautiful orange hue of the sky leaving peach streaks in the tendrils of your hair. fireflies painting the scene behind you. 

Chapter Text

the departure of the softer morning light giving way to the bright afternoon sun awoke you. your head throbbed, the intoxication from the night before taking hold of all of your senses. there was a slight warmth against your back, a light comforting pressure. you leaned into it, your eyes darting down to the hand cupping over your breast lightly. a soft breath hit the crook of your neck as the sleeping man behind you brushed his nose against it. you stirred against him, the light movement bringing an incomprehensible mumble to your ear. the presence beside you raised up, his eyes half-lidded falling down on your frame. you raised yours to meet him, his tongue darted out to wet his pursed dry lips. both of you had an air of confusion about you, looking carefully at one another as the proximity had been recognized by the two of you. his eyes explored sleepily over you, giving a testing squeeze to your chest. he searched your body lazily to try and find what part of you he was making contact with. your face flushed, enjoying the way his hand felt against you. his hands were large against your frame and easily able to encapsulate your whole breast. he trailed his eyes up to your chest, moving his hand down to rest lazily over your hip instead. "sorry," he grumbled, holding his head in his other hand. his fingers massaged into it, as if trying to ease the pounding from beneath the surface. you racked your brain, trying to recall the events of the night before. you stared at your wrapped hands, squinting lightly. his gaze shifted over, noticing your bewildered expression as his eyes fell over you. he followed your stare down to your open hands. "how are those feeling?" he asked, his head nodding towards your palms. he had a tender expression over his rough features. you clenched your fingers into your palm, stretching your hands in a repeated motion. the pain was sharp, but subdued by the cloth pressure against them. 

"not too terrible. what happened?" you slurred out, your body still waking up and still coming down from the previous intoxication. you had so many questions about the night previous, finding your mind had gone completely blank. he averted his gaze, his expression looking almost pained as he stared off into the window. he didn't speak for a moment, looking as if he was searching his fleeting memory of the night as well. his eyes scanned over the blinds, scowling lightly at the bright intrusion of the light creeping through. his hand rubbed his temple, as if his hands would soothe the miserable pangs below the surface. his focus had been long lost to his thoughts as the hand once loosely hanging over your hip began to grasp. his fingertips dug into the soft flesh, short nails indenting into the skin of your hip. his jaw clenched, his entire body visibly tense. it seemed as if he had been at war with his own mind as he stared into the distance. he didn't even seem to notice his fingers digging into you, his jaw tensing even further as he began to form a sentence after the seemingly impregnable silence. 

"you'd have to tell me. i just woke up with you crying and panicking over some glass, with your hands sliced up." he huffed, his grip on your hip lightening as he untensed his body to speak. "i don't know what the hell happened, i just cleaned you up." his voice grew more faint as he trailed his voice off throughout the sentence. the look of guilt in his eyes was very evident. you were still unaware of how you ended up in his bed, if the feeling of his hands snaking between your legs was real or just a one-off drunken dream. you shivered at the thought and the all-too real memory. you took in the look in his eyes, wondering if the dismay was an indication. you took it as a slight confirmation, wondering how to ease into the question. you watched his lips curve downward into a sort of frown, tight-lipped and full of tension. 

you groggily unwrapped your hands, looking into the red gashes closing themselves on your hands. the thick layer of red skin forming above the wounds to protect them. you glanced over at him, swallowing the lump in your throat as you decided to bite the bullet sooner rather than later. "did we-" you started, lowering your head in embarrassment and a hint of shame. his head lowered as well, giving you all the confirmation you felt that you needed. the tension in the air felt palpable, and you tried your damnedest to finish your question to no avail. your voice and mind betrayed you, your mouth opening with no sound falling out of it. you shakily closed your lips, almost mirroring his tight-lipped expression as you took a breath in. "i just need to know if it was real. i can't discern reality from a dream right now."

"i'm sorry." is all he uttered, his hands gripping into your hip again. this time, with a painful amount of force. you winced, hissing air through your teeth at the sharp pain. he didn't even seem to notice with his eyes focused on everything but you.  you felt a pang in your heart, seeing him taking away the attention you craved from him. you leaned forward, reassuringly putting a hand on his thigh trying to think of a justification for the drunken mistake. his body responded in turn, gripping harder into the soft fat of your hip. his jagged nails etched their shape into your thigh, but you were too desperate for contact to care. you winced lightly at it, your face slightly scrunching in pain as tears welled in your eyes. your fingers massaged into his leg, feeling the tension from the touch in his grip on your flesh. you mustered all of your courage to form a reply.

"it's okay... we were drunk and not thinking." you eased, scanning over his face. you tried to silently urge his attention to you, begging him with your eyes to just look at you. he turned towards you, not returning your gaze, but rather looking behind you. his eyes fell on something, widening slightly as his gaze shifted to you. his face went slightly pale, his tightening grip on you finally letting up as he raised himself to a stand. he paced in a small line, his hands ruffling nervously through his hair. his face tensed, making your heart skip as you turned to see what he focused on. as your head turned, you felt his grip on your arm pulling you to a standing position as well. his hands gripped on your shoulders as he held your shaky body in place. his head lowered to look at you, his eyes firmly focused on your jittery apprehensive expression.

your face flinched from him as his voice boomed out through the narrow space between you. "what the fuck are you still doing here?" his hands were firm on your shoulders, preventing you from shying away from him. your head fell to the side, trying to find whatever had pulled this reaction out of him. 

11:57 A.M. 

the clock on the bedside table read. you froze, recalling the blurry memory of the conversation from the night previous. his shouts rang out in your ears, a muffled nauseating cacophony of his booming voice and the colors merging in your blurry vision overtaking you as you tried to stumble out of his grasp. you fell to the floor, his arms hanging limply in the position that once held you. you stumbled to your feet, pushing past him with your mouth in your hands as you let out a guttural groan. the pounding in your head and the sensory overload had caught up with you in moments, leading you to your current position. your body crashed to the floor, leaning on the side of the tub as your head hung limply over the opening of the toilet. you winced, taking his large figure in from the corner of your eyes as he stood in the frame of the door. his yelling had finally subsided as he approached your hunched body. you winced as you began to vomit, whining lightly from the drinks catching up with you. you caught his knee hitting the floor from the corner of your teary eyes. your felt your hair being gathered in his hands. it was pulled back more roughly than you would have preferred, but the gesture did not go unappreciated. your head tipped back lightly from the force, projecting immediately forward as you finished emptying your guts. his hand slightly loosened in your hair, small strands falling over your cheek. his fingers brushed them back, this touch feeling more gentle and soothing than the grip on your hair. "i guess you'll have to meet an old friend." he scoffed, almost scrutinizingly. he grabbed your hand as he stood, pulling you up with him as he roughly wiped your mouth with a towel. "it's going to look worse if you leave now. just go with whatever i say. don't fucking act out-" he pulled you forward, letting you stumble down the stairs behind him. "don't use that smart mouth of yours. don't start a scene. you sit there and look pretty, speak when you're spoken to. got it?" he roughly demanded as he pulled you down the stairway, pulling your weak body towards the sound of knocking on the door. 

fear began to seep into your mind. his gruff voice and demands had become a repetitive eerie tune in your head. his grip on your wrist did not falter at any point, his hands tightening impossibly further around your arm. you fought every voice in your head telling you to run the second your feet hit the cold linoleum near the doorway. every fiber of your being wanted to twist the doorhandle and push past whoever stood on the other side. to never look back, to run to your home next door and hide. your anxiety heightened as his fingers wrapped around the lock of the door, his head turning towards you before making any attempts to turn it. his eyes scanned over your face, taking in the palpable fear that painted over it. he let his gaze focus on your eyes, his eyes stern and piercing through you. you had never seen such a cold look from him, the grim feeling churning in the pit of your stomach had nearly reach it's peak. you realized that he was urging an answer from you, impatiently awaiting your confirmation to his previous question. you gulped, looking from him to the interlinking flesh between your wrist and his hand. you tried to calm the doubt in your mind. for once, you were feeling no comfort from looking over at him for solace. you felt almost a sense of malice emanating from him as he looked down to you. you slowly nodded, noticing the tension in his grasp on both your wrists and the lock had not eased. his gaze was still piercing through you, as if there was a further need. you reluctantly spoke, giving in to whatever awaited when that lock finally turned. "i understand." you managed to get out, unable to protest. your mind was filled to the brim with uncertainty, but your lips were quick to betray you. you were always compliant, always quick to give in to him. 

the shaky confirmation was enough for him, his fingers quickly shifting the lock to the side. you tensely watched the silver shine as the new position had allowed the light to fall onto it. his hands didn't even get the chance to move to the handle before it was turned before your eyes. he let go of your hands, wrapping his arm loosely around you and settling his hand on your hip. he pulled your body into his as he stepped a few steps away from the door. you let yourself stumble back into him, his hand feeling almost tender against you in stark contrast with his previous grip on your arm. he shifted your body against his, allowing your chest to rest against his. he held you in an oddly domestic position as the door pushed forward, bright afternoon light cascading through the entryway. you kept your expression neutral as he held you to him, trying not to let the way the closeness affected you shine through. he rested his head against yours, mumbling into your hair. "just relax into it. make it look natural." you let the tense stiffness in your frame give way, pressing a flat hand to his chest. the warmth of his body soaked through your clothes, and the slight smell of musk wafting up from the proximity. all of your senses filled with him, and for a moment you didn't even care about who walked in through the open door.

a tall dark haired man stepped in, closing the door gently behind him. his skin was pale in beautiful contrast with his darker hair and eyes. his smile widely stretched across his face in a sort of greeting. he was well put together, effortlessly looking slightly classy. his attitude was pleasant, but there was a slightly unsettling air about him. his eyes were kind, but there was a slight hint of animosity as his eyes shifted between the two of you. he stepped in, walking past the two of you, settling onto the loveseat, in need of no welcome from schlatt. in turn, schlatt's hands left you and he made his way to the to sit next to the unfamiliar man. he pulled you by the hand with him, guiding you gently with a seemingly lighthearted smile in disparity with his tense body. he sat down, pulling you gently against him. his hands made their way onto both your back and stomach, gently bending your body to sit onto his knee. his arms wrapped loosely around you as he glanced at you with intention before turning to face the man sitting next to him. something in his gaze told you to do the same. the man seemed to make himself comfortable quickly, despite the tension schlatt held. you observed him as he looked calmy, yet scrutinizingly at both of you. his lips parted for a moment before they pressed together for an almost sarcastic hum. he finally spoke after scanning over the two of you for what felt like an eternity in your fearful state. "so, you quit working for me to play house with some young girl? i heard you quit your job at the office too. you're a mess, schlatt." he spoke calmly. his voice was smooth, not even sounding malicious despite the words he was speaking. schlatt's hand found your hip, gripping it lightly as he countered the man's claim.

"i needed a change." he sighed out, massaging his fingers against the soft skin of your hip. your head felt like it was spinning. the close proximity and the fact that he didn't deny the domestic feeling of your relationship had your mind a total mess. his fingers sent ripples of tingling electricity through your body and you couldn't help but relax into his touch. it distracted you from the strange situation and all the fear and confusion in your head. your mind filled with the feeling of him. his scent, his voice, the rumblings of his chest against your side as he spoke, the feeling of his fingers working out the tension in you. it was all just enough to distract you. "i wanted a normal life, i told you that." he sighed out, moving his hand from your hip to your hair interlacing his fingers through it and applying a light pressure to the side of your head. you gave into the push, letting him move your head to rest between his shoulder and neck. he seemed to pay no mind to you, seemingly just putting on an act for the man. you gave into it, following his order to just go with whatever he does. you rested your palm against his chest as the strange man eyed you up and down. schlatt took notice of this as well, sighing to himself before hooking two fingers into the neckline of your nightdress. he pulled each side of the neckline down quickly to rest just above your breasts. you quickly turned your head to him, shocked at the action. your mind began to race as you looked at his begrudging expression. he sighed once again as he readjusted your clothes. "she isn't wearing a fucking wire, if that's why you're eyeing her." the man seemed pleased, humming lightly as you folded your arms over your chest. you felt embarrassed and exposed, shifting your gaze down to the floor. you heard a gruff chuckle from the man, still feeling his eyes traveling up and down your frame. 

"good to know, but i was just admiring the woman who managed to take my best worker from me." he hummed, holding your chin as he tilted your head up to look at him. you froze under his penetrative gaze. you couldn't help but squirm as his eyes locked onto yours. "timid little thing." he mused, stroking your cheek lightly with his thumb. schlatt felt your discomfort at the act, taking the man's hand off of you immediately as he felt your shift against him. you silently thanked him, wishing that he could peel the look the man was giving you away from you as well. you felt naked under his eyes, like he was staring straight through you. "oh, you're serious about this one." he chuckled, "i can't even touch this one... that's odd for you. usually, you never hold your women down, and you're always willing to share." he seemed almost teasing, and the implications made your stomach drop in a slight jealousy.

schlatt pulled you closer to him, speaking with a slight annoyance mixed with amusement. "those were whores, not 'my women.' those were all girls that couldn't pay their fare, girls that i met at parties... none of them were anything i would ever claim." he chuckled, shaking his head. the thought made your stomach sink even further. the idea of him with other women made you feel sick, despite your best efforts to not see him as anything other than a friend and a figure of guidance. you lowered your head slightly, fidgeting with your hands as the man laughed. you couldn't raise your eyes to either of them, feeling lost and conflicted as you continued to listen.

"touché." he shrugged, seeming amused by the whole situation. "i've just never seen you so domestic with a woman, even protective. you left the business to play house. does this timid little dove even know your former profession?" he hummed, making you shift your gaze up to schlatt with a questioning look. you studied his face, looking through his tensed features for any implication of what was meant by that. his profession... you had heard his conversation when he quit his office job, but based on the man's words he is referring to a separate job. a job in which you have no knowledge of. you couldn't bare the uncertainty you were feeling as you scanned over his clenched jaw and the hateful expression on his face. he reach into his pocket, pulling out his worn down cigarette pack and popping the lid. he held the opened pack against your lips, using a finger to shift a filter up into your slightly agape mouth. you wrapped your lips around it as he casted the pack aside, flicking his lighter against the end of the cigarette. you inhaled to ignite the tobacco, his fingers brushing against your lips as he took the filter from your lips to his own. he laughed with a thick disdainful sound.

"that's low, and you know it." he scoffed, taking a long drag of his cigarette with one hand, as his fingers in your hair massaged into your scalp. "what are you trying to gain here?"

"low? i hardly think so. it's low of you to lie to your little lover." the man smirked, "let's see how much she loves you once you tell her."

schlatt's hands clenched involuntarily, gripping your hair and pulling your head back slightly. you were pulled from your roaming thoughts from the action, feeling the vibrations from his neck against you as he spoke. "once again, what do you hope to gain from this?" the man scoffed in reply, shaking his head as if the answer was obvious.

"my best employee." he said, with a slight eye-roll. he placed a hand onto schlatt's thigh, patting it lightly. "i want you to work for me again. you can say that you want a normal life, you can say you've made enough money to live a steady normal life. you're just denying yourself the rush. are you really content with shacking up with your little lady, lying to her? you don't miss the thrill of it all?" the man spoke in an almost soothing tone, despite his manipulative speech. schlatt's teeth gritted nearly audibly to you. he was clearly losing composure somewhat. he didn't seem to be swayed by the man's words, rather he seemed to be angered by them. he let out a deep exhale, mixed with the smoke in his lungs. he let his body relax slightly, collecting himself before parting his lips once again to speak. 

"ted, i've told you from the start what my intentions were. i never planned to stay in the job long." his grip on you tightened and he glanced down at you for a moment. his eyes were full of both guilt and purpose. the heat from his hands oozed onto your skin. the feeling of his chest rising and falling against you made you feel lightheaded. being so close, so domestic... you knew that this was all an act, just didn't understand the purpose of it. you knew there was something dangerous about the man sitting in front of you two, ted. you were lost in confusion at this point. an old mysterious job, the way that the morning started with his guilty admission, the act he was putting on, the way the man tried to coax him back to his old ways, schlatt's anger around the idea. none of it made sense to you. you could do nothing but cower against his chest, soaking in the feeling to distract from the tense environment. you clutched onto his shirt, letting the fabric ball under your fists. his eyes shifted back to ted, almost begrudgingly. "i'm happy 'playing house', or whatever you want to call it. i selfishly tell myself it's in the past and there's no point in mentioning it, but i know i'm lying. i'm now at a point in my life, where lying is the worst i'm doing." he laughed dryly, "and that's a hell of a lot more redeemable than what i did for you." his hands traveled up your legs, rubbing them soothingly. his fingers trembled lightly against your skin, not letting his gentle methodical movements falter with them. his breath came out shakily against your forehead, leaning his chin down against your head. "i know i'm not a saint, but she doesn't give a fuck. no matter how badly i fuck up, she still looks at me the same." he kept his gaze on ted, still tracing his trail up and down your legs. no matter what he did, you always looked at him the same. everything he said was true. you couldn't stay away. you were nearly certain that no matter what he was hiding, you'd still follow him around like a lost dog. ted stared down at you, his eyes full of amusement. his hand reach out to you, his fingers loosely toying with a loose strand of hair framing your face. the sudden contact made your eyes shift back up to him. he seemed satisfied with the reaction, twirling the strand around his finger one last time before lowering his hand back to his lap. his eyes flicked up and down your frame, making you feel just as exposed as before. all of your resolve would crumple as he looked at you. there was something malicious about the way he looked at you. you could nearly feel spite pouring from him, despite his calm demeanor.

"sing a song, little dove." he cooed, locking eyes with you as he spoke, "tell me what you're thinking. you're so eerily silent." his tone was teasing and light, but you couldn't help feeling even more tense. you didn't know how to voice what was in your jumbled mind. your mind raced with a million conflicting thoughts at once. you looked at schlatt, desperately searching for some form of reassurance. the only form you got was a slight shift of his head barely even a nod, urging you to speak back to him. you swallowed your doubts like a heavy lump in your throat, your fingers fidgeting with one another as you racked your brain for a response. your eyes fell to the door, fighting everything in you to not run out of it. the slow snaking hands around your waist were the only thing keeping you grounded. you slowly took a breath in, your lips quivering. it felt as if the air in the room thickened and every inhale became taxing on you. the fear mixed with the tension between all three of you, every inhale seemed to burn in your throat like a shot. the silence was palpable and you knew you needed to fill it soon. it was a simple question, so you just needed to blurt the first thing on your mind. 

"i'm just confused. you're both so vague, and i'm completely in the dark." you muttered, looking between both of them. ted's face filled with a sort of sadistic delight, as if he had been waiting for you to question things. on the other hand, schlatt's jaw clenched and his arms wrapped tighter around your waist. his arms crossed over one another as he held you to him, the pressure against your torso was almost suffocating. it seemed like a habit for him to hold you tightly while his mind became lost in self-hatred. it was like a child refusing to let go of their favorite toy until the thing they cherished eventually crumbles to their own unyielding hands. his eyes seemed to shoot daggers over to ted, and you knew it had to be tangible to him as well. you couldn't ever read what the man felt about any given situation though. he was too unwaveringly calm all the time. it was almost infuriating. schlatt wasn't an open book, but you could always see some semblance of emotion on his face, but with his counterpart it was impossible. his face was always resting in an amused yet scrutinizing stare at either of you. 

"you scare the poor thing." ted cooed, his fingers reaching down to your chin to tilt your gaze back to him as he kept his eyes shifting from schlatt to you. "it's only a matter of time before your little dove flies away. if you keep her in the dark, you're only hurting yourself." he spoke soothingly, but it didn't ease the distrust you held for him. his fingers wrapped around your chin filled you with unease. schlatt's hands pulled you closer, with you now barely in the reach of ted. the knuckles of his tight fist dug into your stomach and the pain was the one thing that took your focus away from the strange situation at hand. your back now lie flush against his chest. you felt the quickened rate of his heart against you, unable to tell what had increased the speed of it's beating. did he feel the same fear you did? or was it from the adrenaline of the rage that clearly painted over his face turning his pale skin into nothing but shades of red? you wished for nothing but answers in this moment, leaning your neck against his shoulder. you let your head fall limp against it as you tilted back to study his face. he matched your gaze, unable to do anything but reluctantly speak in a hushed tone. 

"what she doesn't know can't hurt her. there's bliss in ignorance." he kept his gaze hooked onto yours, although the statement was clearly meant for his counterpart. his stare softened ever so slightly as he saw what looked like eyes of a frightened fawn staring back up at him. even the softening of his eyes as he looked at you could not hide the undertone of disdain in them. he seemed to be reaching a breaking point with the man who sat across from the two of you. his arms around your waist loosened slightly as his hands fell onto your hips. he lifted them from their position on his leg, letting your feet hit the floor. he kept his grasp on you until you steadied your shaky legs. you looked down at him, slightly puzzled by the sudden movement and almost upset at the loss of the one comforting contact you had with him. he slowly slid one hand down your hip and back to his lap before lightly patting the other with his hand. he spoke lightly, his tone reassuring yet with urgence. "why don't you go pour me and my buddy here a few drinks?" he urged, gesturing to the kitchen to get you out of the room. "ted, what's your fancy? still honey bourbon?" he turned his head to the man, keeping one steadying hand on your hip. ted simply nodded, with one simple request as he smiled coldly up at you.

"neat, please." he spoke out, his cold gaze shifting back to schlatt. the two were tense, and you were fully aware that it was a rouse to get you out of the room. you had no complaints with that. you wanted nothing more than to get away from the discernible tension of the room.

"bourbon's top shelf to the left." he guided you with his words, before giving one last pat to your hip. you took one last look down at him, his eyes still strained as he gave a slight curve of his lips up at you. his hand released you and you made your way to the kitchen, taking shaky breaths as you swung the cabinets open. you reach for glasses, seeing your fingers quiver as they traveled through the distance between you and the top shelf glasses and bourbon. you could almost hear the conversation in the other room as voices raised against one another. you could tell that things were getting heated between them. it made your weary hands shake even more as you tightly wrapped a hand around one glass. you settled it down onto the counter, placing it onto a small wooden cutting board as if it were a makeshift server's tray. you repeated the motion with another glass before staring down at them for a moment. you realized the purpose for sending you out here was a distraction from the conversation at hand in the other room. in order to waste more time, you collected two more from the cabinet. giving the original glasses twin counterparts as you pushed aside a halfway empty bottle to reach for the honey bourbon whiskey. it was untouched. the only bottle in the cabinet that had not even had the lid broken. it looked expensive and you admired it as you popped the lid off with your thumbs. the pop sound from the release of the lid muffled a gruff yell from the other room. the mesh of the sounds made you flinch lightly. you immediately knew who was the first to yell. despite not even being able to see the two, you could picture ted's face right now. still and calm as ever. you knew he was working schlatt up even before you left the room. and part of you knew that was his intention. he was a cunning manipulative man, for certain. you couldn't discern his reasoning for doing so, but you knew better than to believe that there was none.

you realize you had been lost in thought as you collected ice for the cups intended for schlatt. the melting water began to trail down your wrists and the cold stung your cuts from the night before. you couldn't help but be curious of what the future held for the two of you. if whatever he was hiding was the breaking point in your strange relationship, you prayed your hands would scar. you prayed that the flat red gashes over your palms would raise into pale scar tissue painting your skin. like a reminder of his existence, if you two were to leave one another in the past. you winced as you dropped the small cubes into the two cups, the loss of the numbing sensation feeling like knives under the tender damaged skin. you couldn't help but sneak peaks of the living room from over the counter, the two large men looking like specks in the corner of your eyes at the distance between you. no discernable features between either of them. you turned back to the task at hand before hearing a loud thud, fists against wood. you could hear the trembling of glass, discernable as fists banging on the coffee table. you shakily poured the drinks into the four cups, placing the lid back into the open rim of the bottle. you stayed in the kitchen for a moment, waiting for the rumblings of schlatt's loud voice to subside. you carefully pulled up the wooden cutting board, trying to keep your hands steady on either side as you walked slowly. you turned the corner, making your way across the dining room and letting incoherent rambles from the room connected to it. you made your way back over to them, bending your knees carefully to lower the wood down to the coffee table. 

"thank you, bartender." ted lightly chuckled, his hands immediately reaching out for a cup. schlatt's face was colored in several shades of rage, as he pulled a shaky breath in through the filter of his burning cigarette. his hand reach for you rather than the cups in front of him, retrieving you back to your former position on his lap with a hand snaked around your waist as he slid the filter of his cigarette in between your lips to replace it with his cup in his momentarily empty hand. he tipped his head back, immediately letting the drink slide down his throat as you took a drag of his cigarette. ted took his in light sips, which made you believe he wanted to keep the advantage of sobriety. schlatt nearly slammed his cup back down onto the wooden tray before wrapping two tender fingers around his cigarette once again, freeing it from your lips back to his as you let out the cloud of smoke you stored into your lungs. his hand fell loosely around you, draping over both hands that lay timidly in your lap. you began to toy with one of his fingers as the vibrations of his booming voice traveled through the narrow space between his chest and your side. 

"you're not going to sway my mind one way or the other. it was made the day that i left." he continued his previous conversation as ted sipped his drink sparingly. "it's not the line of work meant for me. it was good money. it was great money, and i'm building a life for myself with it. as i told you i had intended to do. there is nothing more to discuss." his hands around the small of your waist tightened and his forearm flattened you to his chest once again. ted's eyes darkened, his calm demeanor faltering even if only for a second. his eyes fell onto schlatt, placing his cup gently back onto the board. he looked as if he had hit some sort of breaking point, and a light smirk fell over his face. 

"how many men have died on your watch, schlatt?" he asked serenely, as if the question carried no weight whatsoever. he held a slight bit of smug body language as he readjusted his position on the loveseat, curling his fingers together around his knee as he crossed his legs over one another. your blood ran cold at the question and the tension in your frame was palpable to the man who held you to him. you were still as a stone, trying your best to keep composure. both men could clearly see through the facade. schlatt could feel the tension in you and ted's face held a form of delight watching your skin turn pale. he was getting the reaction he wanted. his intentions seemed to be driving a wedge between the two of you. men dying due to him? you couldn't fight the shiver that worked it's way up your spine. your lips parted and quivered, but every attempt to formulate a question lead to nothing but your breath hanging into the air. his arm tightened around you as he leaned forward, slamming his cigarette down into the ashtray. he didn't even flinch as the flares hopped up from the force and etched into his flesh, leaving a trail of ash and small raised red burns. the ashes spread across the tray as he flattened the burning end and the filter twisted under the pressure. the two glass plates of both the table and ashtray clanked together in a sickening echo through the eerily quiet room. his now free hand wrapped around the arm that held you to him, pressuring you further into him.

"fine, you win. i'll give into your sick game of not even letting me reveal the skeletons in my closet on my own time." his disdainful voice rang out, his chest booming with the vibrations of his raised voice. the venom in his voice seemed to only delight the man across from you two more. he enjoyed getting a rise out of schlatt. he enjoyed pushing him to his limits. he wanted to get you out of the picture one way or another. he seemed unaware that schlatt was using your supposed relationship as a scapegoat, out of the inconnivence of you not leaving when instructed to. even though every touch and word seemed so genuine, he was nothing more than an actor. something you had to remind yourself of as you soaked in every touch of the man in stark contrast with the normal deprivation of genuine seeming affection from him. in a way, you felt as if he was protecting both of you. you could look at ted and feel the malice pouring off of him, even as he remained as stoic and neutral as ever. he didn't like the idea of you occupying a place in schlatt's life, even if it were a ingenuine facade due to the circumstance. he didn't like the way you 'played house', not even knowing the hidden truth of the phrase. goddamn, was he a good actor. the way his hands snaked up your waist to grip your chin sent electricity through your body. your face was turned to his with an almost tender feeling smooth gesture. his syrupy brown eyes locked down onto yours with an almost soft undertone, before shooting one last reluctant glare back to ted. "i was the driver," he spoke out, finally. keeping your face turned towards his with a light grip on your chin. the words echoed in your head as he let them hang in the air between you for a moment. "compensated for the risk of the task." he breathed out, the words only leaving more to interpretation. it only left more doubt in your mind, the vague word letting your mind run wild. risk. ted didn't seem happy with the vague response either, clear from the scorn in the light scoff he had let out as he studied the confusion in your face. 

"getaway driver," ted specified, not even letting schlatt take control of revealing his own truth. the words mulled over in your mind. you let out a shaky breath, almost in relief. the vague words shared between the two of them all day had finally had meaning in your mind. the question ted had proposed earlier had made your blood run cold, the possibilities of implications were endless. you had almost imagined a more brutal profession. the specification ted provided had put the previous moral implications into a sort of gray area. schlatt tensed further, his hands gripping into your hips. tiny vessels of your skin under the pressure of his grasp began to form twin bruises as a reminder of the contact. you were always so docile, easily taking the hurt and discomfort he inflicted mindlessly as if it were a keepsake. 

"thanks for the interruption, asshole. you go on and on about how i need to face my problems and bear the weight of honesty. then, don't even let me do it on my own. you're a walking contradiction." he spat, one hand leaving your hip to collect his second glass. your hip felt as if it had indented to mold the skin around the shape of his fingers. you watched as his fingers tightened around the glass, looking as if it were moments away from shattering under his grasp as he tilted his head back and tipped the rim into his mouth. the cup was tossed aside back onto the wooden board in an instant, the glass cracking at the impact and forming a web of imperfection throughout the glass. the sound made you shudder against him. he snickered lightly at the sight of the shattered glass, slowly losing any regard for staying collected. frustration was clearly reaching a peak between all three of you. between ted's impatience, your lack of information, and the way schlatt was being pressured from both sides. pressured by ted to come clean about everything, pressured to return to a job that was no longer worth the impact it had on his life, and pressured by the intensity of your gaze. the way you've looking up at him like a skittish rabbit the entire time twisted his stomach into knots. it was all too much, making him silently wish he had never let you come in the night previous. ted was clearly expecting to manipulate the situation just enough to make the slightest falter in schlatt's resolve before he even considered leaving. he needed to drive a wedge somewhere into his life, and saw you as the closest most convenient way to do so. unaware that you even being in the same room with him was a miscalculation. he was fighting a losing battle, but stubbornly so. he was the type of man that gets whatever he want, you could tell. ted was confident he would leave here having at least caused enough of an interruption in the other man's life to lead his mind into even considering crawling back. you just prayed to whatever god would listen that this nightmare would resolve itself soon. everything just seemed to wrap back around into the same circles. "getaway driver, whatever you want to call it" he continued, "from bank robbers and cat burglars, to stalkers and miserable motherfuckers with a vengeance. it wasn't my job to pry, just as it was not my job to participate. my job was to get them there. and back, if they are lucky. i give them ten minutes, nothing more. you'd be surprised at the havoc a man can manage in a simple ten minutes." he laughed dryly, beginning to rub small circles into your hip with his thumb. his grip loosened slightly as he studied your face. the fall of your features in disgust or scrutiny that he had expected was not present. you looked up at him as you always did. no matter what he said or did, you always looked at him the same. it was the thing that he adored about you. nothing he did ever seemed to be able to scare you away. it was endearingly hopeless. like a loyal little lapdog, even looking the part as you stared up at him from his lap with wide eyes that never faltered in displaying the evident affection you held for him. it was sickeningly sweet.

"and when men play with fire, sometimes they get burnt. i've seen people meet their end, but all of it was for selfish means they sought out. i'm not a monster, i'm just the driver." he spoke lowly, his full attention falling on you. it was almost as if the man pulling the strings on him like a puppet master was not even there. the weight on his shoulders, the burden of secrecy, fell into the weight of his words. you couldn't formulate the words to say. it was all too much to take in. you held no repulsion or loathsome feelings from his admission. you were just stuck trying to make sense of the onslaught of information you were hearing about a man you had spent months with. his words kept ringing in your ears. 

"i'm happy 'playing house', or whatever you want to call it. i selfishly tell myself it's in the past and there's no point in mentioning it, but i know i'm lying. i'm now at a point in my life, where lying is the worst i'm doing."

he turned his life around. there was nothing to resent him for. ted clearly thought that the revelation of his past would drive you away, but you felt almost apathetic towards it. he lived a life before you that you were helpless to erase. it didn't change any of the kindness he had bestowed upon you. his past meant nothing, if he made your future better to live in. so, you gave the best response you could muster through the shock of it all. a teeth-rotting sweet smile. 

"i know i'm not a saint, but she doesn't give a fuck. no matter how badly i fuck up, she still looks at me the same."

he seemed taken aback by the gesture, moving his hand to the side of your face and lightly brushing your hair to the side. his fingers sunk into it, lacing themselves between strands as he pushed it back, freeing the smile you lovingly gave him from any obstructions. he was never the most affectionate person, but in his eyes you could almost see a hint of genuine love. not bright enough to discern what form, but a sweet gesture of affection nonetheless. he leaned towards you, his lips pressing tenderly to the crown of your head. the act filled you with further adoration, doing everything in your power to remind yourself that all of this was an act. no matter what skeletons were in his closet from whatever he had come across in the past, you would allow him to open the door on his own time. until then, you held the same trust and adoration as before. his lips were rough and dry against your forehead, holding them to you for a few moments longer than you had anticipated. a voice broke you out of your reverie, almost forgetting about the man beside the two of you.

"how sweet," ted scoffed out, pulling himself from the loveseat to his feet as he placed his glass back down onto the coffee table. "you know you will never be happy just playing a pretend hero to a little girl. deep down, you've always been rotten. you loved your job with me. it was the one thing you ever excelled at. you felt a sense of pride when you made your grand escapes. you can fight the feeling, replace it with your domestic fantasy. you don't love the girl, she's just easy and convenient. you've always been such a loner, and now you have someone equally as lonely. the difference between you is that she's hopeful, timid, easily manipulated into shaping herself into whatever you want. pure, timid, and innocent like a lamb. tranquil like a dove. you're just sick enough get off on it. you're just playing someone you're not. you're rotten to your core, and you'll bring this girl down alongside you." the spiteful words fell off of his tongue like they were nothing. his tone didn't even seem to hold hostility. he said everything with the casual tone that you would relay the weather with. almost as if it were an undoubtable fact. he dropped a small card with a single number printed on it onto the coffee table, smiling down at you as he slid it towards schlatt. he turned towards the door, taking you in one last time before his hand made it's way to the knob. "goodbye, little dove. maybe eventually, you'll grow your wings and learn to fly." a light chuckle followed his words as he turned the handle and the afternoon sun cascaded in around his frame. the words left you haunted. something about the man was not right.

Chapter Text

frail and vulnerable, tender childhood fingers reach out to a feral stray in the rain. the feline knows nothing of love, nothing of trust. the cat diverges its path, deliberately avoiding your touch. it bares its rotting teeth sounding a maniacal hiss from the back of its parched throat as it passes. 

as the door closed, he held you to him for a few more moments. his sharp breaths eased, as did his rough grip on you. his chest began to rise and fall slower against you. he sighed as his arms draped lower onto you, eventually falling to his sides. the feigned affection he had displayed in front of his male counterpart was no longer necessary. you slowly stood, legs swaying from the previous panic. dread settled itself as a lump in your throat like a spreading infection. his gaze finally turned to you. his eyes settled disdainfully on your face.

"you need to stay the fuck away from here." despite the lack of tone in his voice, his face displayed his conviction. he was serious this time. nausea immediately rushed to the deepest pits of your stomach. the dread that spread like an infection from your throat. you foolishly believed that maybe a shred of what he had told ted was true. nothing but smooth lies from a sadistic tongue. two men manipulating one another with every word that fell from their lips, and you were caught in between gnashing teeth.

you wanted to fight.

you wanted to plead.

you wanted to bargain.

you wanted to follow the cat. 

words fell silent against your tongue, unable to get out the sounds of all the words forming in your mind. shaky breaths overpowered the sounds you would have sworn you were forming on your lips. you wanted to speak, but between the terror of the situation and the blunt demand from schlatt hanging in the air. you wanted him in your life. you couldn't care less about what he was before you. you could barely even bring yourself to care what he is now. he brings something to your days. he fills the silence.

maybe you would cling to anyone who gave you any amount of concern or care.

maybe you would cling harder to those that shun and scorn you. 

deliberate, slow, calculated. each step carefully thought out as the cat turned its back. small rubber rainboots placed and pulled from the ground with a precise feet. agile, clever. critically thinking every step of your tiny feet. the cat nursed an aching wound on its paw, anguish clear in its soft cries muffled by its own fur. each lick of its coarse rigid sandpaper tongue made the cat flinch. you watched with intent. you couldn't let the feline flee from you. you were determined to catch it. 

"so, do you make a habit of this? letting people into your life and pushing and pulling them whenever you fucking please? whenever one little thing goes wrong for you, you send people on their way? i told you, i'm on your side. i don't care what you are, what you were. whatever it is that happened here, it doesn't mean anything." your voice began a shaky mumble, rising in intensity with each word as your anger slowly rose to your chest. a cure to the infection of dread. adrenaline healing the lump in your throat and nausea flooding your stomach, replacing the feeling with a pounding in your chest ringing in your ears. blood flowing to your shaky limbs, spreading like wildfire. expanding the passages of your lungs, feeling as if you could finally breathe. 

he remained unwavering in his decision. his expression persisted in stoicism. his arms slowly crossed over his chest, his tongue pressing against his cheek as he finally mustered a smirk. his eyes rolled and his voice fell from his lips like a bitter winter wind, "get the fuck out, kid. i don't have time for temper tantrums, toots." the sarcastic cold tone coating his voice sent a shiver down your spine, only serving to fuel the fire of malice you were feeling. 

"a fucking temper tantrum?" you chuckled sneeringly, watching as an exasperated sigh left him. 

"get the fuck out..." he breathed out, not even giving a second thought to your angry quips.

to fight. 

throwing caution to the wind as you were within arm's reach of the cat, you lunged. frail knees hit the ground as your arms encircled the cat, holding it to your chest. in that moment, you had seemed more animalistic than the animal trapped between the ground and your body. taking the plunge, feeling no concern for the stinging pain of your knees against the concrete. clawing, struggling, tearing twin holes in the fabric of your jacket with every swipe of contaminated claws. petrified, the cat writhes. with every ooze of blood from your stinging hands, you fought to keep the cat to you. fought through the burning sensation of claws burying into your soft skin. fighting every instinct to let go. fighting, to no avail. the cat had broken free of the mess of appendages restraining it.  

"please- i don't want to go home..." you whined through quivering lips, trying for another emotional appeal. the antithesis to anger, tranquility. calmly pleading, desperate eyes falling down to his face with careful steps closer.  "i won't say a word about anything that happened if you just let me stay. we can just... do what we always do. get stoned on the couch, watch shitty movies..." hopeless words falling down to him. there was no changing his mind, it was clear in his eyes, steeled and hardened under his thick brow.

"you won't say anything, either way. you shake like a fucking tree every time ted looks at you." he scoffed at your attempt to bargain with him, the subtle hinted ultimatum in your pleas of desperation. 

"i'll tell everyone. i'll go to the police." you shakily reach your hand down to the business card ted placed on the table. you took it between your fingers, bracing yourself for schlatt to lung forward in attempts to stop you, to plead back with you. instead, as you squeezed your eyes shut, only a laugh rang out into the room. you pulled your tense eyelids open, looking at the amused grin pulling at the corners of schlatt's lips. 

"take a better look at the card, toots." he cackled, nodding his head towards it. your eyes fell onto the laminated paper. 

Nivison's Car Lot

Auto sale center   new | used 

your heart sank, realizing that between your fingers was not the printed leverage that you had thought it was. "it's a legit business. i mean, you saw the fucking guy. didja think he was a fucking idiot? no, he's fucking calculated." he scoffed. you were foolish to think that he would make a careless mistake as to leave something obvious. a man that sent shivers down your spine with just a simple gaze in your direction. a man who somehow managed to unsettle you with a voice as smooth as milk and honey. you shuddered, everything you tried was futile. the same words hit your ears once again, "get out, kid."

pleading.

suddenly it felt like you were looking up at your mother again. 

stop, please, stop... 

"please-"

"get. out." he sneered, his teeth dully reflecting the sunlight basking through the window. 

to plead.

suddenly, you were looking at the fangs of the cat. 

"please-" your voice was silenced by the resounding pings of raindrops hitting the trees. your warm salty tears were intermingled with the frigid rain streaming down your face. deep into the woods, you finally spotted the cat. its fangs were bared once again, dull and rotting. you couldn't even recall how long many hours you had chased the cat, how far you had strayed from home, how many cuts and scrapes had painted your body. you crouched, the fatigue aching in your limbs causing your knees to give in. on your hands and knees, you crawled. silently pleading with the cat, big tear stained eyes trying to implore it to give in. you tilted you head, watching its blood-stained fangs sink into a bird. a little bird fallen from the nest. hungry, ravenous. a predator, tilting its head up in prayer as if to tell the universe: thank you for my meal. you knew what you needed to do, to bargain. 

you were snapped back to reality with the feeling of big arms wrapping around yours, pulling you forward. schlatt had you in his grasp, an arm outstretching to reach for the door knob. you wanted to kick, scream, plead, beg... but your body went limp as you watched the sunlight flood through the swiftly opening door. 

watching the cat quickly snatch up the corpse of the tender little bird, hastily deserting the weak kid gone limp as the rain hit their face. cheek pressed against the cold mud, hands weakly attempting to push your small body off the ground. 

you felt your feet stumble out of the door, the warmth of arms around you leaving you, the sound of the door creaking.

your eyes shutting, your coat soaked and sticking to your skin like a layer of ice.

his eyes taking one last look at your pained pathetic expression, before his face became completely obscured by the door now separating you. 

the cat, awaking you with its nose to your lips. observing, trying to detect your breath. starving.

hungry for its next meal. 

you stared into your window, unable to bring yourself to go home. you were painfully aware of your lack of shoes, still left in his apartment. maybe it would serve as a twisted remainder. maybe he would look at them as proof that you existed in his life at one point in time. when the smell of your perfume in his apartment fades, your shoes will rest against his staircase like a ghost of you. maybe... he'll think about you. you couldn't stand the thought of being alone in your bedroom. you couldn't stand silence. you winced as you approached your door, every step against the uneven concrete digging into the soles of your feet. 

finally gathering the strength to push your hands flat against the ground, pulling yourself up as the cat shuffled away from the movement. 

you slowly opened the door, stepping in and sliding shoes onto your feet. you pushed back out of the door, shutting it swiftly as you began to walk. wherever your feet would take you.

scrambling through the woods, lost and despairing. 

the sounds of the cars accelerating past, the sounds of life in the town. muffled voices, laughter. anything but silence. your mind was too jumbled to work through the events of the day. even attempting to think felt as if it would push you to mental exhaustion. you walked through the sounds of children's gleeful wails of joy, innocent and sweet. passed by idle conversations between friends, laughter and soft recollection of memories. raced past arguments, gnashing teeth and harsh words spewed to one another. you settled down to a bench, drinking into the sounds of life. colors blurring in a messy cacophony in your eyes as tears threatened to stain your cheeks. 

a voice pulls you from your thoughts: tranquil, smooth as thick honey glistening in the light, dripping from gleaming silverware.  despite the warmth in tone, the words hit your ears like ice melting a frigid liquid through your mind, into your very veins. the sound forced a tremor through you, quivering lips parting as you turned your head. "is the little dove flying free already?" his hands rested on the back of the bench as your head tilted back to stare up at him. ted's fingers wrapping around the edge of the bench dipped themselves through the lattice openings of the metal. his eyes focused onto your face, the setting sun behind him falling over his head like a soft apricot halo. you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your shoulders brushing against his hands on either side of you, making you feel trapped between them. you met his gaze, chilling yet with a hint of amusement behind his lidded eyes. his dark eyes bore through you as he stared down, feeling as if he had forcefully  compelled your lips apart when you finally opened them to speak. 

"soaring, actually." you scoffed sarcastically. something in his gaze told you he had already known that things didn't go over well. something in that amused smirk and the mischief shining in his dark eyes told you that he knew. the smile that formed over his lips at your words made you certain that it was his intention, even. "but you already know that. you got what you wanted." you added, malicious venom staining your dry tone. a soft chuckle escaped him, calculatingly incredulous. he feigned ignorance. 

"so bitter towards me. i'm supposing things didn't go well?" his brows furrowed and his eyes softened. despite knowing this was his objective. his sympathy almost felt real, tangible, as if it encased you in warmth. maybe that was what made him so eerie, the way he could make people feel. the way every emotional appeal was so fruitful, so authentic that your eyes fell with shame for even doubting him. your breath fell from your lips shaky and breaking off in the air. you took your labored breaths back into your lips, feeling them sharply fill your lungs. 

"horribly." you laughed to yourself, shaking your head at your previous mistrust, feeling as if it was nothing more than paranoid ideations. you tilted your head over the lip of the bench, peering through the orange hue of sunlight cascading around his face. his eyes softening, his sympathetic gaze embracing your heart. you looked up at him like a god in that moment, the sun-kissed halo over his head pouring warm rays over your shoulders and shielding your eyes from the harsh sun. you could only see him. his sickeningly sweet beaming down to your face. 

"you care for him?" he mused, big fingers pulling themselves from the lattice of the bench. his fingers slowly twisted inward to his palm, his loose fist trailing up until it rested under your chin. his index slid forward and cradled your chin, his thumb gently sliding over your chin just below your lips. a featherlight touch, tenderly grazing your skin. you tensed against it, your body still finding no trust in the man despite what your mind had tried to tell you. you nodded at his soft-spoken question. an inquisitive response followed the action almost immediately, "do you feel that this care is misplaced? teary eyed over a man who casts you aside so easily?" he looked at you for what you were: childish, naive, foolish. his soft laugh made your face fall, the weight of what he had asked setting in. the blind belief you had always held in schlatt, the unwavering conviction in his altruism , it was all so ignorant. 

"maybe, it is," you sighed, casting your eyes up at him. you knew that, in a sense, he was right. you had given far too much of yourself to a man that had now made it clear that you were dispensable. you weren't even certain how you felt about him at the moment. it was all too much. you couldn't help mourning the loss of the one pillar of emotional stability in your life. the distraction, the muse for your delusions, an object of your infatuation to divert your mind from misery. "but nobody controls how they feel. that would make life much too simple..." you chuckled dryly, hanging your head down watching your shoes nervously draw figure eights into the pebbles littering the ground. 

"indeed, it would." he laughed, this time not feeling bleak and hollow to satirize your immaturity. his amusement was present, but it wasn't as condescending as before. it seemed as if, though you had said such a simple thing, he agreed. he nodded his head in affirmation, letting his hand dip down to your shoulder draping it over it. "but you wear your heart so clearly on your sleeve..." he lowered his hand, grasping your elbow and pulling your arm upwards. he slid his grasp down, wrapping tender two fingers around your wrist, feeling your radial pulse. "isn't it a strange expression? i suppose everyone wears their heart on their sleeve, in a sense." he breathed out, feeling your heart rate underneath your skin. "however, you let every emotion paint your face. it's a sign of weakness, little dove. that's why you're so easy to him. you're an open-book, he doesn't have to put any effort into reading you. he's never liked to analyze people, to have to look into the deepest depths of their soul to comprehend them. he prefers them the way you are... expressive, telling. he feels as if you are laid bare in front of him, revealing your innermost self just by looking into your eyes. it gives him power, dominance over you. a sovereign god over you, in a sense. you're his little dove, and he knows he can cage and free you at his will. he knows you'll come right back. you are the one thing in this world that he has control over."

with his words, you felt bare in front of him as well. it felt as if he had cracked your ribcage open and let his hands glide right through. like his fingers had wrapped around your beating heart to stare into it with scrutiny. you swallowed in a breath harshly, taking the words he had uttered into your mouth, caging it under your tongue like a bitter medicine in your mouth. his eyes bore into your being as he held onto your wrist, feeling your pulse under the soft pads of his fingers. holding your heart in his hands, the heart that you sought to protect being peered into so casually. the unnerving feeling of analysis. an insect under a microscope. "are you always such a freak? scrutinizing total strangers for no reason?" you scoffed out, furrowing your brows together in anger, despite the horror you felt crawling beneath your skin. shaky breaths flown out of your parted lips and your eyes darted angrily up to him.

he smirked, looking into your angered expression, "you're trying to deflect because you know i'm right." he observed, leaning down slightly over you. he had now completely eclipsed the sun behind him, his gaze looking darker without the soft glow behind him. "you're even putting a mask on that delicate little face, it doesn't suit you. you can shoot me death glares, but deep down... you're terrified." he dropped your wrist, placing his hand in front of your mouth. he stiffened his hand, cupping it near your face and letting your breath hit his palm. your eyes fell, unable to look at him. "harsh, quivering, breaths... you can't even look at me." he laughed, burrowing his eyes into you. he knew you couldn't meet them and he relished in the feeling that just the strength of his view held.

"you know, i have no intention to hurt you. surely, it isn't my demeanor that unsettles you. i've carefully crafted myself to be charismatic, serene, tranquil... just like you, little birdy." his last words unsettled you to your very core, feeling as if he was observing you to mold himself better into someone perceived as harmless. to manipulate the perspectives of people who don't know to look deeper. people like schlatt, who had no interest in the complexity of digging into people's psyches. "so, what is it that frightens you so? is it the fact that i'm behind you, rather than beside or in front of you? the fact that i could easily harm you?" he rolled the words off of his tongue as if they were not malicious, stating them as casually as you would read the time from a clock. he ghosted his hand over your neck, easily shadowing the width of your neck with his palm and long slender fingers. he laughed before stepping aside, taking a seat next to you. he observed your expression, seeing that the fear has not left your face.

"no, it's not that." he muses, staring straight into your eyes, "you see through me, don't you?" your breath hitches, feeling as if you had been caught doing something you were not supposed to. like a child hit with the bright light overhead as they slide their little fingers into the cookie jar. "you're not like schlatt. you don't fear me because of what you know about me, for what i've done. you look deeper into people. you're just as scrutinizing as i am." he laughed, shifting his legs towards you as he crosses them. "my malice is not directed towards you. it's just a crux i carry. i don't intend to hurt you." his tone dripped with sincerity, sweet and sugary. his voice compels you to give in, to put your faith in his words. maybe that's what makes him so terrifying, the fact that no matter what the deepest parts of your brain tell you, you can't bring yourself to distrust him. it's a facade, his malice was unable to mask. you were aware of that, you could feel it in every instinct. alarm bells rang in your ears, yet you believed he what he had said. he wouldn't hurt you. 

"why are you even here? there has to be a motive for you to seek me out. i doubt you're talking to me out of the kindness of your heart." you asked, carefully. your tone didn't portray the sarcasm you would have liked to, gingerly speaking out your questions. 

"'cause you're so darn cute." he laughed, retorting meaningless flattery to deflect the questions at hand.

"be serious." you sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. as his head shifts to the side, the sun once again falls to form a halo over his head. like a sick cosmic joke. every fiber of your being seems to fight between naive trusting and chilling skepticism. 

"i've never seen anyone like you in his life." he sighs, seeming as if he is reluctantly telling the truth. a soft hum of intrigue escapes from your lips, urging his elaboration. "i've watched women come and go for years. his drunken hook-ups, flings, casual girlfriends... i've seen it all. hell-- even indulged in them, he loves to share." the thought makes your stomach fall, you're unsure of what does it. whether its the idea of schlatt with other women, or the visual of four hungry groping hands exploring a woman that neither of them held in any sort of regard. imaging smeared makeup, tears and quivering legs as the women shamefully left the room when the morning came. something about the notion makes you feel sick, wondering if you would have become one of those girls. hazy drunken memories began fighting through your mind. 

"you look so fucking pretty when you cry for me."

"you like that? is this what you wanted?"

shamefully, you tuck the recollection back into the depths of your mind. in your state, you were hardly able to discern reality. ted's voice pulls you from your thoughts, continuing his sentiment. "but with you, there's a level of protection around you. you're like a possession, a pet. a little dove." there was that irrefutable venom he spat, almost as an unconscious afterthought. the hold schlatt has over you was so glaringly obvious, even if what he had done was an act. it seemed to intrigue ted, his gaze penetrating through the barriers you thought you had secured over yourself. bared to him once again. it felt as if he had stripped you raw, peeling back soft membranes of flesh. like he was peering beneath your skin, looking through transparent ribs to gape through to the center. your vulnerable heart, meaty, dark... beating at a rabbit's pace. ted found amusement in analyzing it, holding it between his fingers. despite feeling as if his eyes were burrowing through your flesh, they looked dazed, lazily following every cotorsion of your expression that had quickly fallen to dismay and bewilderment. "and its led me to a state of intrigue. i wanna know what makes you, you. what makes you special." his steady breaths and tranquil expression cased the sentence in a comfortable tomb of hidden spite. 

attention, the one thing you had turned to schlatt for. affection is born from attention, and its the thing you had craved. like a needle to an addict, booze to an alcoholic. in that moment, you can't help but suspect he knows. hungry, starving. the way his eyes are fixed onto you and only you sets a silver platter in front of you. the way his attention is given to you without dispute garnishes the dishes with rosemary pines encircling glistening lamb chops, soft mint leaves submerged into sour lemonade. sweet and bitter. sweet like his gentle eyes and sympathetic words let out into the open-air. you breath in each word, tucking them under your tongue to savor the flavor. the tender loins of the lamb, a subtle earthy taste coated in the sugary syrup of honey. delicate fuzzy leaves of mint coated in sugar and droplets of a drink falling onto your tongue, a calming sensation cooling your parched mouth. bitter like the feeling of his cold hand reaching out to rest on your arm. the way it makes your breath hitch and the way you feel uneased in your own skin when he touches you. the uncomfortable feeling of rough needles of rosemary stuck between your teeth. citric acid burning at the back of your throat and drying out your mouth as you try to digest the liquid, the bitter feeling. 

the way his eyes see through you, the pure need to know all of you. the desire to understand, something schlatt was barely capable of. he can read you easily, so he feels no need to look deeper. with the man in front of you, it feels as if he wants nothing more than to study you. to pick your brain for his own pleasure. he's openly holding an investigation into your very core, fulfilling your desire to be known, understood, appreciated. like his hands are spinning tables in front of you. overripe fruits, plump meats gleaming with oil and roasted garlic-coating under the light, hearty vegetables. his fingers steadily wrapping around the cutlery with every expressed desire that fulfilled your hunger. all the looks schlatt had denied you, the pure immersion into your psyche that he had never dared to dive into. his practiced hands drove the knife through the soft flesh of the meat, watching as the browned coating revealed soft pink innards at the mercy of the knife. the delicate fruits shed their skin to reveal delicate flesh, the sweetest reward past the thick skin. the fork pierced through velvety rich mushrooms and you swear you've never been so hungry for anything.

to bargain.

the famished cat, tentatively staggering over to you. fingers hooking under the metal tab as you pull forth the rough tin coating entombing meaty sardines. you wonder if the cat had ever been honored with such a delicacy. the fishy smell draws it near, but not too close, holding its cautious distance. you crouch, placing the dish at your feet, urging it near. you watch as every step seems to be debated in its mind. every small movement is calculated, watching you for any signs of movement. once it finally makes its way to the tin, you see that same predator you had seen in the words. snarling, gnawing, tearing through its deceased prey with its teeth. so fucking hungry its nearly choking on its lifeline, its meal, like an ouroboros swallowing its own tail. its a pitiful sight. liquid dripping from its chin, teeth erratically scraping the tin with their ravenous frenzied movements. its eyes finally look up as it finishes, locking onto you. it keens up to you, a wail of gratitude. tilting its head up in affection as if to tell the you: thank you for my meal. as you slowly move your hands down to the creature, it flees once again, leaving you alone with nothing but an empty tin at your feet.

"its getting dark." ted finally speaks up after lingering moments of silence. he stands, looking down at you as the final glimpses of the sun paint your face, relinquishing its hold of the sky over to the moon. he sighs, letting a smile grace his face. you nod slowly at the statement, watching the light slowly fade down the horizon. as the light begins to depart, he does not. his eyes fall down to you, never faltering, never fleeting. his hand outstretches, steady and certain. his fingers unravel in front of you, offering an open palm. a lifeline. breadcrumbs for the little dove. though you both know it will leave you sick, you take it against your better judgement allowing him to pull you to your weakened feet. "allow me to walk you home." he offers. too drained to care, you nod. too drained to care about who fills the silence that had began to feel revolting. you look up to him, eyes full of betrayed gratitude. eyes looking up as if to say:

thank you for my meal.