cold little heart.

"You've never pegged me at all," Holden countered, shaking his head in mock disappointment. To be fair though, he would never allow that because he was obviously in love with the concept of being in control and that was giving the complete opposite. "See," he pulled his lighter out of his pocket, lit it, and held it out for October, "I knew you'd come up with the perfect plan. Oh, for sure, I mean ask me five years ago and I would have pulled the trigger on myself in a heartbeat just to prove a point but where's the fun in that?"

"You've never asked," she countered back with a raise of her brows, as if he'd ever relinquish control like that, not willingly. Cigarette between her lips she leaned forward and lit it on his outstretched flame. "And what point was that?," she asked in an exhale, genuinely curious. As dark as they were with each other there was still a brief flash of worry, or not as much worry maybe as it was sadness, sad that it might've been something he'd thought about before. Then again, October thought about all kinds of violent acts in passing, it didn't mean she ever planned to go through with them.

"Should we make bracelets? Get matching tattoos?" Holden thought the concept of 'best friends' juvenile, but perhaps that was only because he'd been an outlier from the start and there was some jealousy wrapped up in it. Not about the fact that he didn't have friends as such, but more the fact that he found it so difficult to even entertain the idea. People were so untrustworthy to him and he was so angry at the world, it didn't make for a good combination. Still, October was indeed his best friend, one of the only people he would legitimately do anything for, he couldn't even deny that to himself. "Admittedly the knife thing is kind of hot," he shrugged, as if he were truly entertaining the idea. "Not sure the gang hierarchy thing is gonna sit well with me though, so... maybe we could take up bowling? You'd look hot in those clown shoes."

"Probably." As content as she'd always been on her own, she liked keeping a few people around, those she deemed worthy of her time and attention. She didn't care to have a 'best friend' either, or for any of the fanfare that came with it, but she'd acknowledge Holden was her's and they didn't need to make an ordeal of it. "It is," she agreed, point blank, though she couldn't say she'd ever met a greaser she thought was particularly hot. "Really, I didn't peg you for a foot guy. I liked my ideas better but yeah, sure. And then after that we should probably just get guns and kill ourselves right." She waited a beat then cracked a smile, fishing her own pack of cigarettes from her pocket. "Or each other. I'm not really a suicidal person."

"I can talk about men like they're conquests if it would please you. And I don't talk about you like that though, just for reference." He pointed out, though he knew it was a weak defence. People like October didn't come around often, she was entirely in a league of her own. It was something he'd been forced to ruminate on a lot over the course of his life; why he was so leave-able. If he hadn't been so malleable to his father's abuse he might have noted that his mom's depression and the results thereof had nothing to do with him, but he'd been a child at the time and having it beaten into you that the only person on the planet who loved you had lied tended to have an ongoing impact on your ability to trust. "Your own taxidermy..." he pressed his lips together, impressed. "Thought about joining Ace Claymore's little bike club but I don't know if I can get behind the whole matching jackets thing... Not much of a team player, can you believe?"

"Well yeah, you respect me." It wasn't said with any sort of flattery, just as fact. "Plus, if you haven't noticed, I think I'm your best friend." It'd been years since they hooked up, a one-time occasion, and she suspected the thrill of that for him came from the fact that she had a boyfriend. Taking what he wasn't supposed to have, as he'd put it. They'd gotten closer since, to the point that yes, if asked, she'd consider him her closest friend. She didn't have as severe a superiority complex as he did; she thought she was better/smarter/worldlier than a lot of people, but not the way Holden did. He had a very short list, she was sure of it, and that's what differentiated her from Tinsley and the Heathers and every iteration of Heather to come- he saw her as a person, an equal, and everyone else was discardable. "And you have so many jackets," she added, teasing, as if the issue was him not needing another. "But they all carry knives... could be fun. I doubt that's something you sign up for."

He supposed what he liked so much about October was that she shared his chaotic alignment, though she was much more neutral leaning. She understood him in ways Violet never had, and he supposed that was what friendship was supposed to be. In all his years trying to free Violet of the serpentine grip of the Heathers he'd preached until he was blue in the face but he'd just been a sad, lonely boy back then. He'd clung to the first person who seemed to understand him and it had blown up in his face. At least when the dust had settled he'd been awoken to his naiveté, no longer willing to set his heart on a platter for the first well-read woman who came his way. "What I've always- shut the fuck up," he scoffed, squeezing October's face a little as he turned her grin away from himself. "It's about the filth of it all. Tarnishing so called perfection. Taking what someone like me is never supposed to have. Ruining her fairytale." He caught the wrinkle of intensity in his brow and blinked it away, along with the memory of the last time he'd been alone with one Ms Chadwell. "It's getting boring anyway. I need a new hobby."

What was nicest about her friendship with Holden was she never felt a need to self-censor or tone herself down. She rarely did anyway but at least with him she knew any intrusive thought she let slip was probably one he'd had too, that she'd be met with recognition rather than concern. There were feelings she couldn't voice to Austin or even her brother, who both, and she knew this wasn't intentional, made her feel like there was something chemically off with her. They asked if she was depressed, and that might've been one way of looking at it— except she'd possessed this same level of apathy as long as she could remember, the cruel and insensitive child she was. She snickered as he pushed her away, "I know it's Tinsley but I still don't think you should talk about women like they're conquests. I expect more of you." Not much more, as his fixations frequently veered into incel territory. "You could try one of mine. I started doing my own taxidermy, and I play the cello. Fencing, but that's impractical, and I had to stop after... let's call it an accident."

Holden had grown up somewhat since his revenge-driven Heathers hunting days, the retribution served having ended what had been his entire reason for being for a good few years. Violet had abandoned him, which had forced him to glance in the mirror, to note his self destructively obsessive tendencies. Operative word being note. He sure as hell wasn't going to do anything about it. Obsession was the lifeblood of an artist-- of which he considered himself in the poetic sense. He'd been toying with Tinsley, the most forbidden fruit of them all, but the whole point was the secrecy, the danger, the thrill. None of that would exist if he were picking her up for brunch on a random Tuesday. "Why, you miss her?" he exhaled slowly, expression vaguely sarcastic as she took his cigarette. "Mm, if we hate each other it's still fun. Don't worry," he wandered a knuckle down her jaw, "you're still my favourite. I won't be mad if you... cancel her online or whatever." He scoffed boring under his breath, but was also well aware he was a hair away from sounding like his father saying things were better in the old days when you could call people slurs for fun.

They were weird for different reasons, each with their own quirks- October with her cold, unfeeling nature and Holden with his obsessions. It had to be why their friendship functioned as well as it did, that they were alike in general strangeness, without sharing any conflicting specifics. She didn’t care about Tinsley, or any other Chadwell or Heather, as much as he did, and yet they all seemed to be constants in conversation. Not that she minded, as she had characters of her own to discuss, like her brother and Axel, who she felt mostly indifferent towards these days but had once loathed, just as he loathed Tinsley. “So much,” she scoffed back, flat, and passed his cigarette back to him. His hand on her jaw, she kept still, unaffected. “Can’t,” she said back, as if she were remotely the type to practice cancel culture. “I’m not on instagram.” At one point she was but in the last year or so she’d gone off the grid, so to speak. “I’m happy for you though.” She looked to Holden, mouth spreading into a grin, “It’s what you’ve always wanted, right.”

"Don't look at me," Holden shrugged, watching the commotion unfolding across the courtyard at the party. Not that he was innocent though, having been the one to light the fire so to speak. His belief that people wouldn't learn unless they were punished had led him to kick off a chain reaction that now saw some piece of shit pervert getting his jaw rocked by Rosewood's newest member of the knights in shining armour club. Or whatever they were trying to present themselves as. "Oh, yeah, I borrowed your phone." he held the phone out, "don't worry, shouldn't blow back on you. Wasn't even that fun anyway, I'm grasping at fuckin' straws to keep myself entertained here."

October gave him a long blank stare, even if she'd hardly looked his way in the first place, then turned, back to the wall beside him. Gone were her days of acting too good for Rosewood parties — which wasn't to say she particularly enjoyed them, or even went to that many, but just like Holden she was bored. And what else was there to do? She glanced down to his outstretched hand, only mildly irritated when she recognized her phone in it. "How reassuring," she said as she re-pocketed her phone, more annoyed with herself for not noticing its absence than she was with him. "Is Tinsley not here?," she asked and plucked his cigarette from between his fingers, smirking while she took a drag. "Or was that only fun when she didn't want to fuck you?"

"And here I was ready to accept you as a deity," he said, almost disinterested as he watched the knife hit her chain mail and stop. Not that he wanted it to fail but it certainly would have been a story to tell. "Thanks," he let her push the dagger back at him, ignoring the little voice in his head that made him wonder how it would feel... "it's just a sweater but someone asked if I was Sid from Toy Story so I said yeah. My suit of armour was at the drycleaner." Costumes weren't his thing, blending in so no one would notice him lurking around was, so of course he was wearing black on black. "Please, anything to get away from the theatre kids who make Rocky Horror their entire personality one month of the year. And when you say tried to get you pets... you're not a cat person? Would have picked you as one."

"Too bad, we could've matched again," she said, referring to the last time she'd worn chainmail, Holden just happening to show up in a coordinating horse mask. She dropped her gaze to the dagger still in his hand, hesitating a second before she took it from him and hung it back on the wall. Her boyfriend happened to be one of those theater kids, a fact he surely knew, though October said nothing of it, just quietly smirked to herself. "Cats are fine. We only had one, and then ferrets, a snake, birds." She led them out the back doors, feeling an odd sense of relief once they were outside her own house. Like she could better observe from out here. "Wouldn't it be so easy to just-" She snapped her fingers like she was flicking a lighter; she didn't really want to light the house on fire but it was a curious thought, one she knew he'd understand. "With everyone here."

"Fair point, there are a lot of corners." He laughed at how quickly she said yes and almost broke out into song right then and there. "It's actually pretty solid stuff. I'll play you a song later, I won't break out into song just yet. This hostess glow is really doing it for me, I don't want to fuck it up," he teased. "What's your favorite set up in the house? I was personally very taken by the front lawn display. Tens across the board, babe."

She shot him a warning glare when it looked like he might start singing. As for her 'hostess glow' she'd blame her fair complexion- throwing parties wasn't something she saw herself making a habit of. "Set up?," she asked, confused, possibly joking though that much was unclear. "Patton and I put coffins in the bedrooms, that was his idea actually. I can give credit where credit's due."

"I totally would though, it's great for strengthening your hands." Austin laughed as he watched the person go. "I'm actually a little surprised there hasn't been more real bloodshed. Night is still young I guess," he told her, pushing his hair out of his face before re-adjusting his tiara. "I should've anticipated how much this costume would prompt people just singing to me out of nowhere. Is this me getting a taste of my own medicine as a theater kid?"

"None that we know of... it's a big house." If everyone truly left the party unscathed she'd be a little disappointed, she couldn't deny that. Without missing a beat, she gave him a "Yes," lips parting into a smirk. "I'm not singing to you- for a number of reasons, but I don't really know her music."

October was odd, even more so than he was because technically speaking he was straight up unhinged, but that was what he liked so much about her. Nothing about her was a plea for adoration from the masses or for anyone's approval, though he had a feeling such an impressive party might have landed her more social points than she cared for. "Mm, I'd love to see the altar where your parents summoned you," he smirked back at her, perusing a shelf of torturous knickknacks. "I like your costume. Is it functional?" Without pause he plucked a lovely little dagger off the wall and stuck her with it.

More than just not questioning it, Holden appreciated all her strangeness, and met her with quirks of his own. The upside to a party of this scale was you could disappear in it, even as the host, and despite the crowd it felt like it just the two of them. "Sorry to disappoint. They just fucked like everyone else." October hardly blinked as he poked her with a dagger off the wall, which was to say, yes, her armor was functional. Smirking, she grabbed the hilt, just below his hand, and pushed the end towards his chest. "Yes. I like your sweater." She dropped her hand, leaving him with the dagger. "Have you seen the backyard? My parents tried to get us pets for a bit, now we have a row of little tombstones."

"Look at you, diligent hostess entertaining the peons..." Holden spoke up from behind the other partygoer, which seemed to put them in a hurry to be on their way. Not that it bothered him, aside from himself he was pretty sure October was the only other person he was capable of caring about in his own strange way. "Does that mean I wasn't supposed to put anyone in the iron maiden? My bad."

She glared up at Holden, though not with any kind of threatening aura or even annoyance- that was how she looked at most people. Not that he was most people. As strange as their relationship could be he had to be her closest friend. "I'd be offended if you didn't." Whether he'd been to her family's home before she didn't actually remember or maybe it'd just been in quick instances, never much farther than the foyer. "Care for the tour?," she asked, brow raising with only the slightest tinge of sarcasm in her tone.

"Throw a party that's a good one, tobe." Patton couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. October Addams throwing a party? In his teenage years when he was desperately trying to not be like his parents and cared too much what the social climbers of Rosewood thought of him, the idea would have been his ticket to popularity. Now well into his adulthood, the idea seemed more like a joke. "Oh shit, you're being for real right now."He cleared his throat to gain his composure. "So what, you want to like lean into the whole creepy Addams image everyone slapped on us? I mean, yeah, I'm down to help you plan a party. The house is already decorated."

She stared back at Patton as he laughed, unblinking. It didn't make sense, why someone like her who hardly liked attending parties would suddenly want to throw one of her own. Too many people had tried to put a price on their family home though: offers to rent the house just for one night, clean-up included. But of course they didn't have a price and if anyone was to throw a party at the Addams house it wouldn't be Flynn Bueller. Brows raising, she nodded once he caught on to the fact that she wasn't joking. "Right, so. Easy enough. I figure I'll do logistics and you handle.. getting the word out, I don't know. The fun stuff."

Patton watched in amusement as their nosey neighbors scurried off with the same look of discomfort most had when leaving their property. He was happy whatever weird sibling rift they had in their teenage years had long subsided. It was more fun to freak people out when he had his sister by his side. "Yeah, okay what kind of proposition are talking about here? I'm not going to have to be chained up to anything am I?"

"No," she answered, straight-faced, as if that was even far-fetched. She might've tortured, literally not figuratively tortured, him growing up but their relationship was much more civil now. That wasn't to say she liked him necessarily but they could get along. "I want you to help me throw a party." It was out of character sure but people had been trying to get inside their family home for years; if they wanted an Addams haunted house she wanted to make sure they'd regret it. "Here. For Halloween."

"No, they don't jump off our roof on Halloween." As the season fell upon them, Patton knew it was only a matter of time before people began to bug his family. He had hoped as time went on that people would drop the wild beliefs individuals had about the Addams Family. His parents had done a terrible job at combating those rumors so Patton had to suffer yet another Halloween fighting for his life. "No, my mom and sister aren't witches ... but if they were they would have probably cursed you by now. Actually, if you keep asking me dumb things I'm going to ask them to curse you." He could also just give in and embrace it. sometimes.

Catching the tail-end of her brother's run in with a couple nosy neighbors, October stopped herself short in the driveway, smirking as she overheard the rest of their exchange. "He's lying," she spoke up, taking another step towards the house. "I could curse you but I don't take requests. Sorry." She directed her apology at Patton, sarcastic of course, and waited for their unwelcome company to scurry off. "Hi. I have a proposition for you."