#atticusdrop2

“I’ve gone as Santa for Halloween for the past seven years. Why start mixing it up now?” Ronan questioned, lazily licking a bit of chocolate off of his index finger. He knew he was acting awfully cavalier when the university was on lock down, investigating the hundreds of murder confessions they’d just received, but Ronan couldn’t bring himself to care. The only thing he felt was irritation, and even that had been mostly sated when Bradley had suggested they bust into the kitchen from their spot in the cafeteria and find something to eat. The lock down was getting him out of his English literature class, so he was even moving into the grateful category. The assumed murderer that had messaged the entire student body was saving him from his least favorite class of the semester. Of course, Ronan was one of the few to not heed the warning and turn himself in for a murder he didn’t commit, so perhaps he should be worrying that he just painted a target on his own back... but, again, he couldn’t bring himself too. He wasn’t afraid of them, and he certainly wasn’t going to let another anonymous face control his actions the way the zine had when they told him to strip, or face having the skeletons in his closet put on blast. “What else would I even go as? --And don’t say Shrek.” Ronan pointed a half eaten cookie at the brunette in warning. 

The sound of doors slamming jerked his gaze away from his companion and over to the, now closed off, kitchen entrance. The first thing his eyes registered was a nose. A crooked, lumpy, recently broken nose. Humorously enough, if it weren’t for the disastrous appendage, Ronan wouldn’t have been able to recognize this frat boy as the one that shoved Bradley a few weeks ago. They all still looked exactly the same to him. All carbon copies. All Todds. The sight of this Todd immediately put the bruised boy on edge, though. There was something about the way he was holding himself that stiffened his spine. The fact that his gaze had landed on the duo like he’d been looking for them didn’t ease the sudden tension he was feeling either. “Did I ram the cartilage into your brain or something? Why did you shut the doors?” Ronan set the box of cookies he’d been enjoying to the side and hopped off the counter.