mr kinda lucky

“Nobody calls a Pan a coward and lives.”

     ❝  pan is a cowBOY. what about that.  ❞

“exactly what it sounds like–nah, it’s not mandatory, thank god.”

    ❝  is there a reason we’re having              a ball all of a sudden, outta the       blue? & good of them to consider             the less date-able few.  ❞

“No a date is not mandatory.”

    ❝  well that’s a relief... then again,            it’s kinda bummer to go alone.  ❞

♙ a kiss on a bruise

she shows up at his door, a mess of tangled red locks and tear rimmed eyes. her clothes are stained with dirt and other unnameable patches of disaster, and her feet, cut and bleeding are bare; toes curling almost ashamed into the bristles of his welcome mat. she’s the most unkempt he’s even seen her, the most dishevelled she’s ever shown herself, and yet, he can’t help the way his hands move, cupping her frozen cheeks to examine her even closer. she’s been hurt, and wounded beyond reason, and she’s still undeniably the most BEAUTIFUL thing he’s ever seen. 

so many questions run through his head in the moment. why is she here, what happened, who did this to her, why is she HERE, with him of all people. so many unspoken words upon his lips—— and yet the only thing he offers is a welcome. he guides her inside, a hand at her back to make up for how delicate she appears in that moment. she’s always been something to be treasured, ever since childhood, but especially then, he feels like he needs to protect her from what unknown assailants have done this to her. he wants to chase them down, and return what pain they’ve given her two fold and beyond, but he knows that his place is at her side. he can’t leave her, not now, and so he stays.