{ LITTLE SISTER. }

      ❛   pull up a chair and grab a menu. i’ll only pay if you tell me about yourself, kid.   ❜

       She’s hungry enough to excuse the call of KID { again?  REALLY? } and keep her trap SHUT.  No sass when getting FED.  Doesn’t stop her expression from twisting to irritation and anger for a brief moment.                            “--- Uh.  Well.  What’y' wanna know?”

‘ what will make me happy is you learning   that it’s about what makes you happy,    and less about what makes me happy.   think you can do that for me? figure out   what makes you happy? ‘

           “--- I.  I don’t really know what makes me happy.             Except, well --- YOU.  Y’ make me happy.”

         “I’d rather use ‘surprised’ since I certainly wasn’t expecting to come           across with a broken child today.”

     She doesn’t mind; the little girl has no sense of personal space to invade.  The concept of such a thing is foreign to her, though his closeness does have her hands moving faster in their vicious cycle --- if for reasons that have naught to to do with the space itself.                   OH.  Her hands stop, smile twisting instantly into a grimace as blonde brows furrow --- CHILD.  GOD.  She hates being called a child more than much else.  Her jaw clenches; tightens.           “’M not a CHILD.”

‘ I know you don’t —   but I do. I really really   do and living is hard   enough already without   having to live with the fact   that I’ve hurt you. I won’t   do that. ‘

        --- You’re only the second person to tell her that.                    “’M --- not very good at anything but being hurt.  But                     I’ll do whatever it takes to make y’ happy.”

    ❛  look, kid. i don’t carry my wallet in my purse nice try. really.        if you’re that hungry, let me buy you dinner, or something. my        dad won’t mind. ❜

               “--- Are y’ offering.  Because if y’ are, I’m super sorry for tryin’ t’ rob y’.”

‘ — not yet. and I hope I never live   to see the day that it might happen.. ‘

       “It’s okay if you hurt me, you know.          I don’t m i n d .”

like this for a starter!

         DID YOU HAVE TO RUIN WHAT WAS SHINY?

‘ — it does matter, if I was hurting you,    it would matter a whole lot. ‘

         “-- But you’re NOT hurting me.”

                i’m no miss deluxe!                                       —- I’M A BURNER!         

        he pulls out a twenty dollar bill, tucking it between her fingers.         “ – Here’s extra. “

        Eyes widen soon as the bag in her hands, and she wastes no         time in indiscriminately cramming food into her mouth -- barely         paying mind to what it is.  She has no time for gratefulness,         she needs to FILL HERSELF BACK UP.  It isn’t until she notes         money being held out that she pauses long enough to take it         { too quickly, as though she’s afraid he will pull it away and laugh }         and stuff it into her pockets.                                   “Thank you,” she all - but GASPS as she finishes the                                   food she’s been given.  She should have slowed down;                                   no doubt stuffing an empty stomach so much will                                   make her feel ill later, but hopefully it shan’t be enough                                   to make her RETCH.  { what a waste. }                      “I -- ‘m Riley.  Y’ want somethin’ in -- return?”

          seriously, what do you see in that guy?                                                      —- HE MAKES ME LAUGH.

Translated & Edited by me~

    Yeah– he’s the one with the UH, and here he is looking at the UM.       It might be her age that stuns him ( the bottle is only a quarter full,       OH GOD !! ),  and it might be her audacity.  If she’s caught, even       the local authorities  would  pity  her  enough to take her home, or       maybe even to a  foster  care  center.  ‘ Where are your parents? ‘       ‘ Who gave this to you? ‘  &  ‘ What the hell’re you thinking, being       out at night by yourself? ‘ Vanitas recalled himself in her current       situation, and it’s a  DISGUSTING  memory.                         ❝ I’d imagine otherwise. You look awful. ❞       Perhaps it’s because she’d stayed up a night or two thinking about       how the monsters under her bed really exist– how coldly and most       horrifically people behave toward one-another. There had been no       amount of sympathy in his actions; IT’S JUST A JOB.

               Smile remains intact; he’s not wrong, and she’s not one to                take offense, especially when DRUNK as completely as she                is.  Tomorrow’s gonna be fucking mess -- but right now, that                isn’t her problem.  Her head tilts drowsily, hair spilling over                bony shoulders and hollow cheeks.    { don’t blame yourself.  really.  she was due for getting wasted. }                                 “I always -- look like shit,” she slurs, holding out the bottle                                  in offering.  “Y’ want some --?  It’s -- uh.  Vodka.”  She’d                                  jacked two bottles, and some beer and heroin, from the                                   house of her last job after he was dead.  She’s set for a fun                                  few days -- but she is a good girl, a nice girl, and nice girls                                  S H A R E with the people they LIKE.  

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