#edgedglory

two broken souls 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐃 with the 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜 from their 𝖉𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖘, playing a 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒 game of 𝓽𝓻𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮.

theo shouldn't be here. he should be at adam's apartment with adam, doing whatever domestic bullshit that adam insisted on. but he and adam had gotten into a fight and adam had thrown him out. the other man had accused theo of cheating on him, not letting the photographer get a word in edgewise as he yelled and threw paranoid accusations. he threw up so many things in theo's face, such as his former open relationship with sam and even theo's past as a s/ex worker, that it made theo regret even meeting adam. he even implied that theo's psychic abilities were bullshit, which was one of the things that hurt theo the most.

he hadn't even made the conscious decision to flee to sam. theo had simply been pulled there by a force that he couldn't put a name to, his feet knowing exactly where to go and not slowing down until he was in front of that familiar door. the second that it opens to reveal sam, the words come pouring out of him, unbidden and unstoppable. he's shaking, his normally calm facade shattered by the earlier events. he's vulnerable, opening himself wide for the one person who theo should have never doubted cared for him.

and then sam's lips were on his and theo was melting into the older man. his heart aches, even as the thoughts flee his mind. he wants nothing more than to become putty in sam's hands, allow his ex to carry him away and never let him out of his sight again. please don't stop, please don't stop.

heart pounds in the wake of doing something she shouldn't , tooter moving to nostril before the cocaine which is offered is graciously taken . it's not her original vise , but a high's a high nevertheless . she's been there before , but the last time she was still a cop with a lot more to lose .

now , she was without a badge and her lover ( the source of her new disease ravaging her body day after wretched day ) were gone . it's crazy what grief can compel us to do . sniffing , she nods in silent thanks when an eerily familiar face is in her view , standing before her ... a looming , foreboding presence .

mark knew that he should be a lot grumpier about the entire situation, should probably be scolding sam more about picking fights. the filmmaker always said that he could handle himself, after all. but he was so used to having to run or protect himself that even he had to admit it was nice to have someone swoop in and protect him. granted, sam's definition of 'protecting' mark had been to break the guy's jaw and knock him out cold but it was still nice. even if mark had to wait for sam to bail himself out of jail.

his chest blossomed with warmth at the older man's words and he was unable to stop the small smile that formed on his lips. "i really appreciate it, sam. i'm not...i'm not really used to anyone doing that sort of thing for me."

how in the hell had they ended up like this? it was all supposed to end after a heavily coked up one night stand, but mark consistently found himself drawn back to sam again and again. mark was trying to remind himself to heed collins's advice and be cautious around him. sam was the kind of guy to be a heartbreaker, to get bored easily, to toss his conquests to the side when he was done. but mark was falling more and more in love with sam and it was terrifying.

They’d been neighbors and what she considered to be friends for a while. They’re both social butterflies with a need to feel the rush of being loved, of being in the center of vice and fun. She’d left his party in the hold of the handsome stranger, a mysterious nobleman from the wilds of the Carpathians. What transpired had been mostly a blur. Memories of red eyes, of the inky darkness of the cemetery in which she’d “re-awaken” to reality. With lost shoes and dirtied dress, she’d made her way back home in the early, early morning hours. Knock rapped upon his door, wholly absent of the bloodied wound upon her throat. Hands move quickly to wrap stained scarf against the opened wounds. No need to worry her neighbor and friend with what she can’t fully remember.

@edgedglory liked x for a starter!

the photographer had to take a moment to breathe in deeply, head spinning in disbelief. theo couldn't believe that this entire space was his to work in, to create his art in, to thrive in. the studio was even better than he'd dared to dream. it was bright and spacious with plenty of room to do anything that his mind's eye envisioned, whether he wished to be simple or go absolutely buck wild with it all. he'd hoped to achieve something like this when he and his grandmother arrived in new york, but had had no hope that it would actually happen.

and it was all because of the help of one man.

the photographer knew that he's been pushing at sam's limits lately, nudging here and there and pushing hard before suddenly backing off right before he crosses a line. it was a new tactic that he'd been trying, just to see sam's reactions. unfortunately, he'd gotten a little too carried away this time and now here he was at sam's mercy, arms pinned where he can't touch himself or the older man.

receiver wakes up to sender’s relief, only for receiver to not believe it’s really sender (that they’re imagining sender or that they don’t think sender would come for them) or that they’re finally safe.

mark has never been one to get sick easily, but when illness hits him, it hits him like a freight train. the symptoms came out of nowhere, starting in the morning and escalating dangerously by noon. despite the argument the night prior, he'd given up on the silent treatment and told sam when he woke up that he wasn't feeling well, but not even the filmmaker could have predicted how much worse his symptoms would get in such a short time. despite the medicine that had been practically shoved down his throat, mark had nearly collapsed from fever and had had to be carried to bed.

two days have crawled by with mark stuck in the confines of his own mind, his body feeling like it was on fire with no way of escaping. specters haunt him, echoes of his father yelling at how about how useless he is. his brother sneers at him from the corner of the room, telling mark that he hopes that he doesn't make it. his high school bullies wait for their moment to pounce, cracking their knuckles threateningly. even a twisted ghost of sam participates, calling him useless and pathetic. these are the things that mark endures, fully believing that they're real. his mind is too fried with the fever that clings to him for mark to fully realize that it's all just his mind trying to hurt him.