#bcmbed

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         THIS was seen coming from far off. miles away &&. yet, monti can’t avoid being caught up in the middle of it. damn this need to please everyone about everything. fingers grip tight that frail frame of hers. no. he can’t let her go. he doesn’t want to let her go. there’s not something in him that can do this easily. though there isn’t a way for him to figure it out. mahogany hues find, or attempt to at least, her own. pleading her to stay. begging her to stay. she was the greatest thing he had right now &&. he wasn’t ready to let that slip through his fingers. even if things did get fucked up.

        NO avoiding that at least.

        IT get’s chocked out nonetheless. a quiet utterance of ‘don’t’ as if that could change everything in the world. those same hues are slow to close, forehead meeting her own with that small notion to pull her in closer. tighter. safer. god he just isn’t ready to let her go. not ready to say goodbye. sure she’s allowed to walk into his fucked up life &&. make a few changes, but he doesn’t want to let her walk back out. he’s not looking for a lie. at all. he’s just looking for her to stay.

        ❝ please. don’t. ❞

we're not friends anymore.

          ❝ you smoke? ❞ she holds up a fresh TWENTY bag, normally enough for just her, but she’s feeling generous. ❝ you look like you need to, like, CHILL a little. ❞

@bcmbed

A Jeep was not the vehicle he had been expecting, but he certainly wasn’t about to protest. Jacket preferred a taxi whenever possible - quiet and private, and taxi drivers were experienced enough to stay out of his business. He could bleed in their cars and they would ask no questions as long as he tipped them enough. He wasn’t so sure that was the case with Uber drivers, as he hadn’t used the service much yet, but being in this part of town left him little choice.

He approached the car briskly but not without a limp considering the handle of a switchblade sticking out of his leg, surrounded by a small patch of dark red where the knife appeared to be sunk into his left thigh. One of his hands was pressed at his side, where more blood could be glimpsed somewhere under his letterman.

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