on the run.

          Lines riddle across aged features, a symphony           of aggravation as the alcohol splashes against           pale skin. Head tilts to the side, a  hand  rising            to rub the substance off her  face,  digits  then           raised  to  her  nose  before  inserted  into  her           mouth.

                    ❛ Cheap. ❜

        ' ---- well, i'm broke. '

       she brings the gun to her own mouth & pulls the trigger        not once but twice.

             he’s just trying to make his way back home. in his  eyes,   it’s  early.              nearly two a.m. but he’s been out later before. much later. he stops              in the alley to light a cigarette, and she comes   from   nowhere.  he              drops his lighter with a flinch and a grunt of surprise.               ‘ woah, woah, lady! ‘ he barely hears he words of desperation, but               finally gains the wisdom to listen.he’s not an  idiot.   he   can tell               what she’s looking for,  and   unfortunately,   he   doesn’t  have it.                           ‘ i ain’t who you’re lookin’ for lady, but if ya’ still want   to give me               somethin’, darlin’, be my guest, ‘ cheeky to the last day, of course.                                     and with that, a deceiving grin that tells                                                  not of his burdens, but of mischievous and YOUTH.

       her hands RISE to his face, one finger cupping his        chin, as her thumb grazes his lesser lip. he's good        looking, yes. but not who she was expecting at all.

.                ❝ you’re right. i am selfish for                     not letting you steal from me.                      and i don’t care. you know, if                      i was really selfish, i would’ve                     kicked you out already. ❞

well, he’ll just throw her over his shoulder,  then. it’s not a long walk to the kitchen, so he puts her down quickly.

.                                             ❝ not drugs.  ❞

       a low rumble, a growl of sorts leave her lips,        hands balling into angry fists, as eyes narrow.

       ' but you said --- just, fuck. get me HIGH, or          give me your boxers. '

         ❝ well, so was i! believe it or not,              i actually do wear the underwear i              buy most of the time. crazy, i know.❞

he rolls his eyes, and puts his hands on her back to ( forcefully ) guide her out of his bedroom and into the kitchen.  

       ' not everyone can afford underwear. you have          enough, anyways. don't be so selfish, man. '

        she allows him to guide her, letting her body go         nearly limp, just to make it harder on him, even         though she isn't that heavy at all.

   (     whoa—— actually had him a little worried there.          though he wouldn’t deny her shooting herself          would be amusing.     )                  “ yeah, yeah—— just not the face doll. “

       swallowing, she nods  ;  taking the water gun out        of her mouth and doing what he said not to do, &        pointing it at his face, but with no intent of pulling.        the trigger without preparation.

       hands lightly rest upon the other's shoulders,        a sigh of relief passing through her lips, digits        gently massaging his shoulders.

       ' thank god, you're here. listen, what do you         want this time? you have the stuff? right? '

       sex for drugs, time for drugs ---- a place to        sleep for drugs, AYTHING for drugs. tell her.

—— ♆  ❝ admiring someone like ME? ❞ 

       it’s hard to believe anyone wants to take a look        at such a hideous creature, though it might not        seem that way on the outside. to everyone, he’s        simply, an average, underweight, lanky boy.

       ' yeah, you're hot. '

       he isn't hideous, not in her eyes ; in fact she believes        him to be the EXACT opposite. attractive. & it strikes        odd that he seems to think otherwise.

 ❝ my ass isn’t flat. your ass is flat. get out.❞

with a FIRE for every experience and an obsession for freedom that terrified me to the point that i couldn't even talk about it, & pushed me to a nomadic point of MADNESS that both dazzled and dizzied me.