#backroadsaints

you look... good. ( @backroadsaints )

Well fuck. Just her luck she runs into one of the few people she'd rather not see in a huge city. Lou would find it amusing if she wasn't so stunned to silence for a moment by Denny's compliment. Or really, even the hello that preceded it.

@backroadsaints // bump.

He always was a blunt instrument, anyone who'd spent any time in the city knew that about him. The dead has risen, Jimmy was on the loose. It's obvious, the places he's hitting, the people he's squeezing, this is a vendetta. This isn't a hostile take-over, he was leaving too much on the table.

The question receives a blank stare, there's words on the edge of his blood-stained teeth, his lips are twitching, but no words come out. He looks frazzled. He smells like gasoline.

"I'm tryn'a fuckin' show 'em," it's barely audible, bass through the walls, he's been lurking through back all night, stone walls and kegs, pacing up and down the hallway. "I was fuckin' happy, alright," unlit cigarette and two digits thrust towards Julian, "they came and they found me when I didn't want to be found, they dragged me out of the snow, they burned my house down. They fuckin' chose this."

The bodies are piling up. It's starting to get hot.

the boy fiddles, gently, at his pack of smokes. a tangible, tentative thing to worry his bruised fingers into. hesitance weighs upon him. original admission snuffed like dying embers.

he leans back, exhale heaved from his lungs. his frayed shoe tipping-and-rapping. the tired crick of her porch. august has always detested it. the way your entire being can betray your reluctance, your nerves.

although, he heeds her speech. try again, billie declares. (hazelnut eyes swim, half-lidded against an incandescent georgia sun.) being back in his home state makes his teeth ache.