#poorbcy

              ❝ Ah, fock off! ❞ His Glaswegian drawl has a funny way of becoming more pronounced when he’s agitated, and needless to say, the mountains of cocaine he’s been doing are not helping. James is going to be front page news tomorrow across all of Australia, and he knows it— the impromptu rendition of “Anarchy in the UK,” the denouncement of the royal family, the flying beer bottle from some drunk bogan that struck him squarely in the back of the head (whoever threw that ought to be a fucking cricketer), it’s all been a blur. He’s bleeding profusely now, and he’s lightheaded, and for once it’s not because he hasn’t eaten. ❝ There’s so much fuckin’ blood, fuck’s sake— ❞

              Jenny sighed softly as James swore at her, clearly not particularly bothered by the strong language, given that was already quite used to being on the receiving end of verbal abuse throughout her childhood. No, she wasn’t worried about that, she was much more concerned with the copious amount of blood that was currently soaking James’ hair and beginning to run down the back of his neck. She wanted to call an ambulance, but she already knew that there wasn’t even the slightest chance that James would go along with that. But what else was she supposed to do? He was bleeding profusely and she didn’t know how severe this might be. 

the atmosphere was encircled by bliss; relief dusted the walls of bear’s small apartment, and sweet choruses of laughter infected the lot of overstretched college students.  bear felt that her shoulders were able to remain in a position of relaxation--- for the first time since exams began, bear felt that she could just chill the fuck out ! 

  there was friendly finger-pointing, and eyes glazed with a tired sort of happiness   as the audio of this terrible 80s movie kindly accompanied any silences that   lulled over the small crowd. ---- the moon lights the dark lodging, and bear’s ears   shoot up at the sound of a demanding knock at her red door. 

the blonde excuses herself, legs unfolding as she gently places her glass of orange juice down onto her wobbly end table; a delicate sense of nervousness wells in her stomach, because it’s 3 AM and why would there be someone at her door?!!!!????

  precariously, bear reaches for her the doorknob, her sweaty palm slipping    slightly against the brass handle---- a breeze runs across the girl’s face as she   creates a small sliver to peek out into her hallway.

a gentle murmur fills the air and a soft sigh escapes her mouth once she lays eyes on a rough-looking james,

            ❝ No, no, you absolutely CANNOT do that. No. Don’t you even fucking dare. ❞