#gibberish

The wind was harsh. It whipped through the forest, played the trees like a flute, wrestled from them an ominous whistle that was audible even from the roof of the mansion.

You’d been half convinced you were going to die on the way up, as you'd followed Toby blindly (as usual), keeping your eyes on his back as he guided you out of his windowsill and along the siding.

Your skin stung with barely-there scrapes dotted up and down your bare knees and palms. Much to your delight, Toby had actually looked a little worried a few of the times you’d pretended to start slipping.

You’d only actually slipped once. That time he’d laughed.

For your benefit, you’d wrapped yourself in one of the dollar store blankets that were stored around the mansion in case of cold nights like this. Nina might’ve gotten this particular one, you thought, since it was distinctly pink and polka-dotted.

(By ‘gotten’, you really meant ‘stolen’. None of you had much in terms of money. There was no need for it. Still, given the blanket’s humble beginnings, it was annoyingly thin. You had to force yourself to bite back a shiver… embarrassing.)

Toby, on the other hand, seemed fine. Or maybe his hoodie was just that insulated. He was bubbling over with a familiar restless, jerky energy, rocking vaguely back and forth and taking intermittent pulls from a roughed-up cigarette that was probably one of Tim’s.

After attempting a deep inhale, his eyes went wide and he doubled over, chest pressed to his knees as he coughed and sputtered for air.

“Lightweight! Lightweight!” You leered, eyeing him from where you sat on the roof.

The two of you were a foot or so apart, close enough where the stink of his cigarette was invading your personal area, but you didn’t move away. The smell was familiar, almost comforting for a reason that was hard to place. Thinking about it-- or anything pertaining to your past-- made a splitting pain crawl up the side of your temple, so you didn’t. Instead you focused on the tile sticking irritatingly into your thigh.

“T- th..hhhat doesn’t…” He took in another breath, “D-doesn’t even mmmean anything with cigarettes... Idiot.” He huffed, hitting his chest with a fist as he took a few shaky inhales. To his credit, he recovered surprisingly quickly.

“Mmmmand anyways, I have to breathe it in all at,” His eyes blinked roughly, “All at, ugh… all at once because of this… f.. fuh- fucking thing,” He tilted his scarred cheek towards you and stuck his tongue out of the hole, poking the tip of it with his finger. “So ‘s a little harder than usual.”

“Shiiiit dude. I didn’t even think about that.” You relented, tilting closer to peer at it. Curiosity was ever your vice.

God, it looked gnarly, scar tissue wrapping around the gaping hole in the side of his face that led to crooked, yellow molars and dirty gums.

“Mhm.” He hummed, eyeing the cigarette like a challenge before dipping down and leaning over his knees again to take another drag.

You mirrored him and leaned your head on your knees to watch him, like he was your own personal TV show. Wasn’t like you got much to watch out at the mansion anyways.

“Kinda wanna stick my fingers in.” You mused. He didn’t react much, just blew the smoke out of his mouth in a lazy fog.

His eyes met yours from where his head lay on his knees. He lifted the cigarette up to his mouth just to chew on the edge of it with his canine. It seemed the thought was worth his consideration, at least. White paper crinkled beneath his teeth.

“Mmmmmmm… yeah.” He said, angling himself to face you just slightly more, “I-” he began, before his shoulder jerked up to his shoulder. Something popped in his neck and he winced. “Urgh… I will if you let m…muh- me put this out. Onn.. your arm.”

Your eyebrows raised. You felt a dull pulling feeling in some tendon of yours on your arm, but it went away quickly. Punctuated with another shiver, you wrestled your arm from beneath where you’d wrapped yourself securely in your blanket and held it out in the biting wind. He eyed it.

“Hold me still.” You said.

One calloused hand found your wrist, holding it tightly, and you wondered if that’s how it felt when he held down his victims. You wondered how much pressure he applied. Something spiked in your pulse. The smoke ebbing from his cigarette sharply switched direction as the wind howled, whipping your hair into your face. You flicked it out of the way with a jerk of your chin.

He took one last drag deep into his lungs, directly from the cig to his lungs, then pursed his lips and puffed it all out towards you. The wind shoved it out of the way before it could even get to you, sending a a brief flash of annoyance through you. Whatever. Maybe next time.

As you were imagining the two of you, maybe in the basement, Toby leaning over you and blowing smoke into your pores, you felt a sudden sharp pain shoot up your arm and into your throat.

You made a sound pathetically, some strangled half-gasp-half-yelp that had your fingers curling into your palm and body recoiling. Toby had been quick, pressing the cigarette up against the smoothness of your arm, quick enough to give you zero time to process what was happening, surely too quick for you to prepare yourself. It wasn’t the most pain you’d ever experienced, not by a long shot, but it was unexpected, and the surprise somehow made it more poignant.

He held it there, watching your arm, watching you, watching the air hiss out from between your teeth as the residual heat crawled up your arm with razor fingers. Your wrist flexed beneath his grip. The pain finally started to mellow out, dipping and dulling into something rounder and easier to manage.

A snicker left him and he dug the bud harder into your skin, grinning even wider as you flinched. His tongue ran over the front of his teeth.

“You’re so fff-fragile.” He teased, letting your arm go and flicking the cigarette at you. It hit you on the chest. “No wonder you duh..don’t go on missions.”

“Uh, yeah, whatever..”

Your voice was a little too weak for your liking, mind still reeling slightly from the shock. You imagined the wind sweeping the feeling away.

You made a face at him before you bent over your knees to observe the mark he’d left.

With a low voice you muttered to yourself, “Someone’s gotta do stuff around here, can’t all be running around in the damn forest…”, but you were obviously more preoccupied with the mark in front of you. He’d left a rosy red circle on your forearm with a red slash of color leading up to it from when you’d flinched.

“Looks pretty badass.” You hummed, holding your arm out to him.

In turn, he held out his. It was covered in scratches, cuts, marks, burns, countless scars and blemishes running up and down his arm.

“Okay… showoff.”

He only laughed, smacking your arm away. You couldn’t help your smile.

“So do I get to stick my fingers in your mouth now?”

“Mmmyou know you can do that wuh…whenever you want.” He hummed, tilting his head towards you with a catlike grin.

Well, if he said so. As quick as you could, you darted your hand up and shoved your fingers in his mouth. Obviously they didn’t get very far, given that he was grinning with his teeth, but you got the desired effect, the tips of your fingers pushing past his lips and into his gums for a brief moment. He spluttered, his hands shot out, and he fell halfway backwards. Your laughter keened out into the night.

“Ah…ss..” His right eye flinched shut, head twitching as he reared back up, “Asshole!” But he was laughing too. He swatted at your hand again and you humored him by shoving his own hand back. He only grinned.

Done with playing, you flicked your bangs out of your face and leaned backwards to lay down on the roof tile. It was rough where your elbow rested. One of your hands reached out to grab the shoulder of his hoodie and tug him to follow.

He leaned backwards to match you and you, in turn, leaned over him. His head moved easily when you reached out and grabbed his chin, maneuvering his face to give you a better angle to observe his scar— if you could even call it that.

While you watched him, he watched you. His eyes bored into yours, observing each expression with strangely careful attention. You could feel it physically, the weight of it, the feeling settling heavy somewhere in your throat. It was exciting.

Your thumb traced down his cheek, just shy of the wound. He tried to suppress a flinch, but failed, his teeth gritting together. He was weak like you… just better at hiding it.

“Do you look at it a lot?” You asked. Your thumb finally found the rough outside of it, feeling the barbed skin. The texture was unfamiliar to you but not unwelcome. This was something you’d thought about for a while.

He tried to shake his head. You held it still. Your grip tightened to press his jaw open and he conceded, mouth parting like he was at the dentist. It was admittedly tempting to say the line (say ahh!)... but you kept it together. The soft pad of your finger smoothed from his cheek towards his lower lip. It was plush, fuller than the top lip, and when you ran your finger over it it popped back into place in a certain satisfactory way.

Your nails bit into the soft flesh of his inner cheek and his teeth barred, framing nicely around your knuckles.

“Has anyone ever touched you here before?” Your voice was hushed and close to him. His breath met yours.

“No.” He said, voice muffled around your fingers. You shoved them deeper.

“D’you think anyone will ever touch you here again?”

He was quiet for a while. Your middle finger stroked over the slickness of his back canine. Finally, he answered: “No.”

a/n :: this is my first tumblr fic lol hope you enjoyed. and i also hope i formatted it right... lmk. comments and reblogs are appreciated. bless. also creds to @\pixopix for the x divider