#brokenfist

"if it's any consolation, you lasted a lot longer than most people do. usually people fall within the first thirty seconds." and that's with you holding back and occasionally letting them get a hit or two in.

The question strikes her as odd,　initially,　the sort of rumination she has never afforded herself.　Is she meant to feel sorry for him?　Some little thread of pity tying her stomach into knots?　She doesn’t,　and it does not happen,　and Leopard instead looks to him with shallow intrigue,　black eyes wide in their ogling as internal circuitry whirs from within.　What has always been her greatest distraction is the tangible,　something to steal cognizance away with a shock or a startle or another surface level physicality　⸻　with delusion,　she believes she is helping.　With delusion,　she believes that she wants to help.　❛❛  Then don’t think it.  ❜❜　At fundamental odds with comfort’s abstraction,　she shifts in place,　near-straddling pristine white leather of her couch in equally unnervingly furnished apartment.　Looking into the hollows of her soul and nothing more.　But her shifting permits new positioning,　to where implements of her arms snake in around his form,　taking Noname into pastiche of an embrace that tapers off into weight pushing him down against the couch.　Blink once,　twice,　cache the rhythm of his heartbeat.　❛❛  No one gets what they deserve,　anyways.  ❜❜　Finally sealing this mock-sympathy with a kiss,　her teeth roughly dig into his bottom lip,　abrupt gesture that beckons lips to stretch into a grin.　

kissing u so hard ... big claim from the coolest person on my dash

habit of lighting fire to cigarette already in place, something that just brought you immediate comfort in any given situations that involved socialising. a light chuckle, quite smug really while inhaling and the gray smoke, clouding both their faces. there, soon enough a confident smile as you turn to him– most people feared you, A REPUTATION FOR BEING THE STREET'S NOTORIOUS FIGHTER, a crime dog wasn't really in the books of 'niceness' or let alone good. you wanted it to be that way, there was no room for walls being brought down anytime soon. "–yeah? and what does 'everyone' say i am ? you believe'm? "

"you're cute," you mutter, licking your lips and leaning in to press a kiss to his neck, his jaw. "especially when you bleed like this."

"hey—" carries down the alley, "hey——" a little louder, this time. "i'm new here. i was hoping you could show me around." fresh-faced, almost delicate, but tall, long hair tied up... he seems out of place outside the warehouse. he carries a cane but does not seem to limp. clean clothes betray no desperation sufficient enough to drive him here to fight. still, he asks: "where... i can put my things and so on—?"

"oh--" there was a difference? no wonder the others were looking at him WEIRDLY as he stood in front of the threads. sheepishly he grinned at the other and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. "uh.. i can always return the thread and actually talk to the staff for help.." though he'll probably BEG his friend to do the talking for him while he stood in the back pretending he was just dragged along. "this is.. the picture, is there anything else i need to buy or something..?" his sentence trailed off as his free hand held out his phone to show the shiba inu on his lock screen. "is it doable?"

She is in tears. The young woman with high cheekbones and sharp, jagged teeth is in tears. She looks out of place, she looks entirely lost and confused, and as if this has just dawned on her, how lost and confused she really is, she is in tears as she stands under the awning of a building in the rain, arms wrapped around herself.