mason:3

On the run, everything was survival, from squatting to stealing to killing. Now he didn't have to do that. But why isn't he happy?

He's all too aware of the imperfections generously decorating his skin, scars all shapes and sizes from various encounters, faults and accidents.

The jagged flesh pulled taut, the stares they brung, the questions and disgusted looks.

They give him purpose, they give him control.

All given to him by other people, other monsters.

So he gives himself his own, small things, nail biting, skin picking, light scratches on his wrist or calf.

Then he starts biting, chewing into flesh before covering them with his armbands. He started scratches, taking away skin flakes and leaving raised red lines behind.

No one notices, he's more relaxed, less tense than before, he feels good, his body is giving in to him.

He starts craving more, the bites go deeper, scratches rougher, blood is drawn and he is addicted.

He'd never felt this much relief before, he's satisfied with the sting and the beading blood.

He doesn't feel like he need to live anymore.

He doesn't need to survive anymore

He wants to give in.

He wants the pain to stop. The ache.

Neil Josten goes quietly, on a bloody bathroom floor, blood pooling from deep gashes.

He's smiling faintly.

Also, he has small hands and feet. Not delicate, just small. More accurately, short, just like him. He doesn't care to have a complex about it (but Aaron does). Neil's hands have a whole knuckle on him, because he has pianist hands. But Andrew's palms are larger.

His facial features are unremarkable. Like in Nora's notes, he's not ugly, but just average. Symmetrical without poetry. Deep set eyes made for mistrust, strong brow offset by their blond color. Strong square jaw, not like Hollywood but like you would imagine on a lumberjack. Perfect for making the muscle twitch on your cheek when you bite on nothing. Also, smooth and blunt chin.

My mind (you do you) refuses to see him with tattoos and piercing or black nail polish, because otherwise he couldn't be mistaken for Aaron. I also think that Andrew wouldn't want to adorn himself, because he doesn't like people's eyes on him. He watches people like a hawk to protect his bubble, but he wants to be unremarkable. Not dismissed, exactly, but ignored. Left alone. He doesn't want people stare to snag on him and linger, it makes him feel like they are touching him, palming him with their mind's eye.

He's gay but straight passing. He's not flamboyant, doesn't want to be. He dresses all in black loose-ish clothes. Comfortable, not restraining. He doesn't want men to check him out : he does the chasing when he feels like it, not the other way around. He curates himself as a subject of desire, not an object.

He's a little speck of black on people's radar and he likes it like that. Being underestimated is how he gains the upper hand (that and being the first to strike).