look what you fucking made me do. / @slaughterlocked !!
"Oops!" She rests her chin on his shoulder, barely there. That line between asleep and waking is so thin. She loves a workaholic. They're always running on fumes. She likes when they nod off behind the wheel — literally and metaphorically. Because this shit was not masterfully done, frankly. There's too much blood in the carpet, there's hair under his nails, skin under his nails, the carpet is red as sin and there is scalp under his nails. More importantly, there is no animatronic around to hide this in. Even if there was, where would he start scooping? "You are some kind of animal," she continues, admiring. And, "You're a fucking freak!" as gleefully as she can manage, knowing it will ping the part of his brain that loves order.
How are you going to compartmentalise the stains out of that tie, you stupid fuck? she thinks, and slides away, leaving him to deal with the fallout.
