#;prophetic

[ text ]: bruh

[ text ]: u throwing a party or something?

[ text ]: no but really. same.

sent to ☢ Davey ☢

[txt]: a party of me haha

[txt]: come to work early tomorrow?  we can do shots out back or something

                    ‘ i just   i feel so fuckin’ STUPID, you shouldn’t have to       ‘

“I don’t have to, Davey.”

                  the doctor’s been in yet ANOTHER argument with one specific orderly. lawrence really thought he’d made himself clear this time. apparently not. it was practically a huff coming from the other, something that wasn’t meant to be HEARD, and lawrence exhales through the nose.          ‘       is that a threat, mr. hindle? ‘

The orderly stopped dead in his tracks, eyes flashing wider for the briefest second before he turned back to Lawrence.  His jaw tightened and he closed the space between them, standing toe to toe with the doctor.  “If I wanted to threaten you, I’d do it to your face, Dr. Gordon,” he said, harshly spitting the other man’s name.

at the mismatched adjacency, the photographer had to stop himself to think, believing for a second that he had asked something he had not meant to when expressing the meaningless comment to the orderly. on realisation that it had been the taller man’s misunderstanding, he turns to look at him as he steps passed; a shake of the head in dismissal to save face.

     “oh, its just— nothing. just–its raining pretty bad, huh?            must be a nightmare with people trailing in water–”

he didn’t even know where he was going with the statement, a scratch of the back of his neck in subconscious response to embarrassment. adam didn’t even know why he had attempted to make conversation with the clearly busy staff member; he didn’t even want to be here.    as both men stood there in the hallway, he wished he hadn’t said     anything now, a tinge of embarrassment flushing damp features      on return from a much needed cigarette break from visiting a friend.

With the pause in speech between his question and Adam’s answer, Zep broke eye contact for a swift once over, sure to direct his gaze to the other’s wrist before lifting focus again.  To passersby it likely seemed the orderly was checking to see if the man before him was a wristband-bearing patient - which wouldn’t have been a terribly incorrect guess, though it only scratched the surface of the truth.  In reality, he wouldn’t calm until he knew Adam wasn’t like the manifestation of Greed with broken bones in 203 or the angel dying of cancer in 617.

Seeing nothing inhuman about the body standing in front of him, the man’s half smile grew far more sincere.  “At least the power is still on,” Zep began.  “Though saying that probably jinxed it, right?”