#(alice.)

there is a lack of safety here. in the town she's lived in since she was born, and a town alice most likely would never leave. this fact left her wide open to the only threat she'd ever known. malcolm used to live here, he knows where alice sleeps, where she goes ( there's not that many places to go, around here ), where she worked. he knows she works with kids, that she lives alone. he knows that she bartends at the checkerboard on weekends, and he knows all of her weaknesses. as much as alice liked to say she could handle herself, she couldn't say she wasn't afraid. nervous, that he'd come back for her. he'd nearly beaten her to death the last time she saw him. she has a right to be anxious. 'if it wasn't really him that i saw, i'm gonna feel so stupid. and bad, for dragging you out here,' hands slide into the back pockets of her jeans, glancing up at antonin with a shrug. 'appreciate it, though. feels better knowing someone's on my side, y'know?' @frightes.

                    she’s not used to it, anymore. rough and unwanted touches were given to alice for such a long time that she unlearned all the love charles had given her when they were no older than sixteen. he can tell, too ; that much alice could see. and hidden shame washed over her whenever she accidentally flinched away and then played it off with laughter. tonight, they sit at a table in the checkerboard bar, the woman sitting close next to charles, their knees touching as she took a sip of beer. the weekend called for the small town to join in on the night’s fesitivies, despite those festivities always being the same. ‘ oh my god — i love this song! ’ drink is sent down the hatch before she’s grabbing for the man’s hand and all but yanking him onto the small dance floor. ‘ c’mon, charlie, i know you still got it! ’     @contrariian  ,  sc.