killian: so im finally back

killian: i need to get reacquainted with the bars around my apartment

“We are past-the-point-of-no-return when it comes to climate change, Killian !!!  Do you understand that?  The carbon dioxide levels in the atmosphere have stayed above 400 parts per million every day of this year…I’m understandably concerned.”

“God, Kil. You are so grumpy. I wasn’t even yelling.” Ariella chuckling, searching through her purse. “Do you need aspirin?”

Levi laughed, loud and cheerful. “Little Cindy? Damn, you went for gold with that one.” He moved to sit down on the bleachers and followed suit in leaning back. “That’s your own fault, man. Rule number one of a hangover, always take aspirin. I’m sure you can come get Cynthia to come and kiss it better,” Levi teased, making a kissy face at Killian.

“I deemed it safe to return,” he said, shrugging a shoulder. “And anyway, it’s not like anyone cares about me anymore. The mob has a short attention span.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. I was voicing my opinion on the tragic combination that freshman choose to model. I figured it was a higher crime than my voice.”

Bradley let the next beat of her pencil be her last once he gave her the green light, setting it to rest atop the scribbles on a page that was supposed to home a structured set of notes. “Do you think it hurts?” Her tongue tracked against her cheek like she was testing for a taste the words might have left, something bitter and potent enough to get her drunk and giddy on the sinister promise lurking there. “Shooting yourself.”

Pearl felt like a rat scampering around a claustrophobic cage. No cheese, just the mindless chatter of a crowd riled up into a panic. Every brush against her arms when somebody pushed past made Pearl’s jaw lock in place. Rooted to the same spot where she rocked back on her Converse, she cycled through the unfamiliar faces surrounding them. Laughter bubbled up her throat when she caught sight of a girl yelling into her phone, only to burn out when she noticed Damon and Nina slipping through the cracks when they thought nobody else was watching. “Caught you,” Pearl murmured, heart jumping out of her throat and rolling down the steps of the auditorium. “Food?” Licorice whips. Salted pretzels. Cinnamon whirls. When was the last time she’d eaten something without tasting it on the way back up? Tears misting her vision, Pearl fought them to the back of her skull. Somewhere dark enough to trap them without ever worrying about finding them. “It doesn’t,” she added. “Help anything.”

The shift was quick and barely there. He supposed it would have gone unnoticed by most people but he would have been a fool to not notice the way her eyes began to shine. Glassy with tears that brought him back to the ball, to the chemistry lab, to the night of the bonfire. She was trying to hide it, he could tell, but her words brought upon confusion. What didn’t help? It was then that he had remembered what he had said, his brows furrowing with more confusion. Food didn’t help? He almost asked what she meant, but the mismatched pieces seemed to sew themselves together the more he thought about it. Her thin, almost frail looking frame, her hollowed cheeks and sunken eyes, the only thing that didn’t make sense was that he had seen her eat before. Did she just force it back up once they separated? “Oh..” was all he could think to say, not entirely sure how to handle the new information, if she even wanted him to. Time and time again it had been made clear to him that she couldn’t or didn’t want to be fixed, not by him, at least. He was unsure of what to do, deciding to just slide his arms around her waist and pull her close into a tight hug.

Cynthia let out a soft laugh, reaching up to stroke Killian’s cheek and pouted at him, “Maybe if you stopped trying to be an alcoholic you wouldn’t have such a bad headache hmm?” She was teasing, of course, patting his cheek and pulling away to reach into her bag, rummaging around for her bottle of Advil, “Here, take some of these you’ll feel better.” She instructed once she had the bottle open, shaking out three pills into her hand and holding them up for him to take while getting out her bottled water.

“What’s that? You want me to yell? Oh, Killian, baby, I didn’t know you liked screamers! I’ll yell for you all you want.”

“Sore head?” Small talk always left Pearl feeling like she was trapped in a glass box. Ever since their argument over Cynthia, she’d been skirting around seeing him. Killian really had shrunk her down to size and Pearl couldn’t help but still feel small. Childish. Tinkerbell thrown into a sad little jar. “I feel your pain,” she finally added. “I’m constantly hungover these days.”

“You’re such a grumpy old fart.” Bradley exhaled for far longer than necessary, pencil jolting restlessly against the table like she was rehearsing to stand in for Phil Collins on the drums. “You looked like you were slipping into a fucking coma. I had to yell to keep you in the land of the living. Anyway.” She deliberately squelched a grape she’d dropped earlier underfoot and pretended it was her father’s round little head. “I have a question.”

“Sorry, I didn’t think a simple whispered ‘hello’ would suffice.”

Will’s toes bunched up inside his polished shoes to avoid showing any tension in his fists instead. “I’m not–… I was not yelling.” Fingers stiffening around his pencil, his next sketch stroke was as sharp as a switchblade to the throat. “You’re a very… tall man.” As lanky as my grandma, too. Will resisted a tepid chortle at what he supposed was an insidious inner monologue. “I was trying to be accommodating so you could hear me.”

“Damn, Killian. What happened? Wait–let me guess! Crazy ass night? Party too hard? Too much sex? Nah, no such thing as that.”