#mckittenwrites

Hearing the voice behind him, Jonah squeezed his eyes shut, then turned around, the air from the refrigerator gently cooling his back. Since when did she know he got nightmares? He'd woken up sweaty and panicked, so he'd come to the kitchen to stick his head in the fridge in peace. Apparently, though, he hadn't been quite as sneaky as he thought. "What? No, I came to get a drink," he threw a thumb over his shoulder. "You want a midnight-- er," he glanced at the time shining from the microwave, then corrected himself. "A three-thirty-seven AM screwdriver?" He turned to reach into the fridge and grabbed the orange juice, then took it over to the counter where the already open bottle of vodka had been drunkenly placed hours before. "I hear they're great for pre-sex," he forced a chuckle.

There were a lot of words swirling around Jonah's head-- from 'what the fuck is your problem' all the way to 'please don't do this'. But, of course, he was Jonah. He couldn't say anything of use, because God forbid he show any positive emotion or attachment to anyone, right? God forbid he show that this fucking girl standing in front of him, begging him to show some sort of fondness for her, actually mattered to him, even just a little bit. God forbid he let her know that leaving her was pretty far down on his list of things he wanted to do. God forbid he be a functional human, instead of some kind of goddamned ghost, hiding behind drugs and alcohol, pretending to be alive. So, instead of saving the night, Jonah turned without a word and walked the hell away from the one thing he didn't want to leave. God forbid he swallow his pride to be happy for once in his sham of a life.

Jonah rolled his eyes, stepping back away from her to pull his shirt over his head. "It's just sex, Liz," his voice came from the confines of the fabric around his head, but he pulled his face out of it to continue. "It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't even mean it'll turn into a habit, alright? You want it now, I want it now, so let's do it now. Stop thinking about shit that doesn't even matter. I'll figure out who my fuckin' human fleshlight is after we get this done."

Jonah stared blankly, his drug-addled mind trying to catch up with Lizzy's words. "Do what?" The question was a dumb one, as soon as he watched the girl cross the room, grab her coat and her bag and whatever else of hers was strewn around the room. "You're leaving," he said, more of an answer to himself than a question to her. Of course she was. Why would she stay? Why would anyone stay? "Whatever. You're having a bad trip or something, and I don't really wanna deal with it anyway. See ya."

finn whitrock and ryan mccartan as brothers is now my new favorite thing bye

WHAT THE FUCK ARE EXES AND WHY DO THEY THINK THIS IS OKAY?

*squeal* well hello there friend