#cnlines

Colours, colours, COLOURS! They cut through the noise, through this house as people countdown to the new year, they, party for the excuse of it, for the reason to come together. For Rue, it’s just been another place seen socially appropriate to scrape at her worst behaviour, tongue left dry and her heart, dragging, on the floor behind her as she stumbles back into the party, all too oddly aware of the beating of her own heart.

How everything remains steeped in colour, and Rue, all too aware, she lets her hand guide her along the wall, love-drunk on the feeling of SOME NEW HIGH, both fantastical and unfamiliar. Everyone’s having a good time, she sees all her friends as she weaves through the house, feet dragging, most people already knowing what that look on her face means. Rue Bennett’s relapsed again, and nobody’s surprised, are they, not when they’ve watched her mark down her own personal clock, that countdown set alongside her reckless behaviour, they’re all just waiting for that moment when it all burns out.

                       Expected, sad, but - didn’t you know? Rue Bennett was a filthy addict.

Heart in her throat, she’s about to start looking for a place to pass out without making this whole thing some big fucking deal, but the wall she supports herself against, blindly, crashes her into a WHOLE PERSON instead; Rue’s vision tilted and fucking painted over, it takes her a moment to register just who it was she’d run into, her grin spreading slow with that dawning realization. “Shiiiiiit... August, is that you? I thought you were like - like a whole fucking collage boy now? What are you doing here??”

  ( from here! )

                                                  ♡.⁺          his  nose  wrinkled  against  the  accusation  so  brutally  charged  with  an  emotion  his  anxiety  filled  brain  could  only  label  as  concern  with  a  hint  of  anger,  fully  expecting  it  but  not  quite  processing  the  tone  immediately.  his  hands  smoothed  easily  over  the  countertop  like  he  was  searching  for  lint  along  its  surface,  hoping  it  would  be  enough  of  a  fun  pattern  danced  along  with  his  fingertips  to  be  a  wonderous  distraction  from  the  brewing  of  disagreement  that  filled  the  little  breakfast  nook  they  resided  in.  was  this  actually  a  stupid  idea?  probably  because  it  was  one  he  came  up  with  on  his  own  and  those  almost  always  turned  out  absolutely  awful  for  him  and  everyone  else  involved  anyway.  “  personally,  i  think  its  a  great  idea.  “  who  wouldn’t  jump  at  the  idea  of  trying  out  some  weird  energy  drink  that  a  man  at  work  had  told  him  about?  seemed  legit  to  him.

                                                     ♡.⁺          auden  was  pouting,  this  jut  in  his  lip  that  suggested  he  was  once  again  in  third  grade  hoping  to  be  whisked  away  soon  by  his  mother  so  he  didn’t  have  to  deal  with  so  much  noise  and  color  anymore.  however  he  refused  to  look  up,  a  nagging  feeling  of  being  watched  boring  down  on  him  until  he  was  sure  he’d  laugh  and  fall  to  his  knees  begging  for  jiwon  to  let  it  go  and  forgive  him  for  having  such  terrible  ideas.  god,  he  was  being  a  drama  queen  just  about  now  but  truthfully  he  was  a  sucker  for  people  who  weren’t  happy  with  him.  “  why  not?  i  can  get  extra  hours  at  the  shop,  stream  more  often,  and . . .  “  brown  eyes  finally  lifted  and  he  reached  --  albeit hesitantly  --  over  the  counter  to  press  his  fingers  over  the  backs  of  his  companion’s  hands,  “  i’ll  be  awake  enough  that  us  hanging  out  isnt  just  me  napping  with  my  head  in  your  lap.  “

deep breaths. deep breaths. distantly, jiwon thinks he hears the voice of his therapist ring in his ears like a phantom, and he begins to go through his list. sand between his toes, fleece against his fingers. salt in the air and a crackling bonfire down the shore. ‘what purpose does this serve?’ prompts the same voice, and after a handful of beats jiwon’s answer is: nothing. as has always been the case, jiwon’s anger never achieves much beyond the momentary release of frustration that inevitably backfires on him. there’s concern in the mix, along with a hearty dash of worry, but acting like an over-protective mama bear probably isn’t the best solution right now. so— deep breaths, and look at the facts. auden is overworked. try again. auden works too many hours. again. auden has two jobs. better. whenever they hang out, more often than not it ends with auden falling asleep and jiwon thumbing through one of his favourite novels in the ensuing silence. numbers? at least 70% of the time. very well.