JAGGED EDGES

     sage hadn’t been gone for long, but it was clear that life had went on after his absence once the front door opened. short ivory locks usually painted with oil & grease now fell naturally towards the side, a familar tired posture risen tightly at the sudden sight of the older man. at that, sage offers up a pearly smile while taking a pull, before he’s forced inside the apartment -- smooth hands on his bicep further accentuating jackson’s hygienic appearance. “fuck that,” he responds instinctively, gray clouds fuming between a loose jaw. jax’s stature shifts then, expression accumulating ICE & STONE, a look sage rather enjoyed playing around with in the past. the reference goes over his head as he didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about, but that wasn’t much of a surprise considering half the things he's said.  AMBER hues move past him, critiquing whatever decor was present ...which wasn’t much of anything. though, that wasn’t a surprise either. “should’ve sold yourself in mexico,” sage remarks instead, jutting his chin towards the bare space. “not that, that shit woulda’ helped, but you coulda bought a fuckin’ plant at the least.” the blonde pauses short for a moment, ringed fingers digging through both pockets & pulling out the remnants of whatever was left of last night’s sell-- including a lighter -- ignoring what rules were set beforehand. “speakin’ of, when’s the last time you got baked, dunn?” dark eyebrows raise with the question,  irises flitting over jackson’s work clothes, remembering his own attire didn’t include the proper wear to cover what was most likely pressed against his sweats. it didn’t matter at the moment though & he wasn’t in the business of being particularly subtle, so perhaps it aided in implying the mood he was in. one of loose gazes & flushed movements.

sage: lmfao how bout u tell it to ur rooms instead chicken shit

     rough fingers scrub at the last layer of soap on the male’s exploited frame, letting every sud mask the scent constructed from the weeks he’s spent out of state -- yet amber irises stay laced with carmine veins & sable bags remain underneath drooping lids. sage climbs out the bath, movements slow as he silently dries himself off to slip on a pair of both a clean tee and sweats; unbothered by the consequences of wearing such without boxers. plans for a quiet night are disrupted with the sudden self awareness of the mess he’s allowed his bedroom to become: clothes and shoes s t r e w n on the floor, a pile of magazines that had toppled off the chest of drawers that he’d never bothered to pick up. the bedside table is littered with empty pill bottles and overlapping ring stains from his regular nightcap. he's motivated in a sense that being cooped in his home isn't what he's after, keys & wallet already in hand as he exits the front, cool liquid still dripping over clear features. it’s nearly been three weeks, sage realizes, since he’s seen the platinum punk usually caught beside him, reverently delving into whatever schematics the older had domineered. soon enough he finds himself in front of jackson’s newly purchased complex, padding up the stairs until uneven, ragged knuckles are rapping against the doorframe. impatient & RESTLESS. his chest R I S E Sand f a l l s with each passing second, the outside temperature dropping and inked fingers unconsciously removing the cigarette perched behind his ear until he’s got it lit between chapped lips -- taking in any heat produced, his aroma now a mixture of nicotine and pine. exhaustion overcomes his ability to enter jax’s home without permission, smoke billowing from the cig that’s undoubtedly combing through a clean buzzcut, freshly dyed to accompany such an infamous composition.

   sage glances up at his name. a simple title molded into an ANCHOR at the very t i m b r e she purrs from pillowy lips. a husk that brings him in front of her door at the very indication he’ll be MAIMED & MANGLED the same night. he watches quietly as soft movements contradict sharp tongue, temples pressed against one another in a soft melodic sway. “that doesn’t answer my question, baby girl,” sage responds; baritone leaking with salacious intention. her taunt awakens a familiar disposition, blown pupils grazing below as she pulls sweetly at the f l e s h of her bottom lip. a J A C K A L of a man hunches over the petite blonde, palms gliding down the swell of her ass to grip at the meat of her thighs, lifting her up until she hooks her ankles at his back. he closes the door with a free hand, occupied arm wrapped around her center before he's slowly dropping her down atop the silk covers of her bedroom, instantly shaping around her curves. bruised lips connect with her own, rough palms gripping at the hair flowing down the back of her skull, pulling gently at the dirty locks. bites the provocative riposte sent minutes before into the blonde’s neck, her shoulder; until bruises littered her once clean torso into a palette of BLUES & PURPLES. a tune that ends in weary limbs for the both.

   the twenty three year old knows the consequence lacing each syllable rolling off s t a i n e d tongue. feels the T R E M O R S vibing off the man as he listens for any malicious retort at bringing up at such a personal subject. “woop woop,” he huffs, thomas’ emotional response given a wolfish grin, perhaps even a slightly scornful laugh if you were close enough to catch it. there were problems between them from the get go, usually residing in the expressions thomas wore at sages presence, so, in truth, this was just a caught opportunity to speed it up. ember hues flutter up & suddenly sharp knuckles are twisting dangerously against his MALAR; head snapping sideways at such an intense hook --- the inner meat of his cheek no doubt sporting a GASH from being ripped open. it hurt, and the pain lanced down between them was a signal along a wire. the blonde lunges before focus can be regained & brings the two crashing upon the cool ground. they collapse into the middle of an occupied pathwalk, onlookers response ranging from stunned gasps to immediate phone calls for assistance. the BEATEN doesn’t take a moment to breath from such a bruising fall, rolling on top of tommy and taking what seemed like great pleasure in bleeding directly into his face, a fat splotch of blood hitting tommy square between the eyes. the pressure of his weight keeps the blonde beneath, heavy knuckles brought down in collision with the curvature of tommy’s jaw --- grazing up against his nasal bone to feel it give way beneath sage’s fist. 

   there were only two things that currently concerned sage: the epinephrine coursing underneath pulsating skin & the way tommy crushed trembling digits into a fist. there wasn’t much to tell other than the fact sage was an immediate stressor for the man, not even a word had to be spoken for a once casual gaze to twist unto that of heated dislike. dark eyebrows come together for a brief pause in thought, figuring out a trigger for such a usually composed man to POUNCE. then, sage’s features contort into an expression of nonchalance, shrugging a lazy shoulder as he brings over a stack of napkins. he places them on the floor, stepping on them and wiping away the fallen beverage. “let’s just hope your fuckin’ brat of a son don’t turn out like his pops,” passive aggressive remark glossed over with a tone that R E E K S short of nothing but what he believes to be TRUE. olive hues flick up for a brief second to connect with tommy’s, before glancing down at the mess made. “fuck off fore’ his babysitter kills themselves. wouldn’t wanna deal with that shit.” again, he doesn’t say. it wasn’t that sage had anything specific against the toddlers father, it was simply an act of what you give is what you get. though with sage, what you got happened to be a hundred levels more w i c k e d.