#spicegrrrl

Peck keeps his head upturned, watching the teapot with the same vehemence a sentry might, His brows puckered to a point as he inspects the porcelain from his dis-vantage point, searching for any sign of spiritual interference beyond its... orbit. He's still peering when Belinda replies.

❛ She? Is the teapot a 'she' or is there something... attached to it? ❜ He finally breaks eye contact when he turns her way, he hates how fanciful the question sounds, even now he can't quite shake the ridiculousness of it. Of ghosts. He doesn't know which answer he dreads more. ❛ Are you sure a drink ought to be the priority currently, as opposed to the ghost inhabiting your kitchen? ❜

⠀⠀YOU JUST GAVE ME THE IMPRESSION THAT WE WERE EXCLUSIVE, BELINDA + KASPAR / @spicegrrrl.

“did i?” belinda can really pick her moments. a zine and black marker is passed over to kaspar, and he signs it with a lazy flick of his wrist; cigarette clamped between his lips, using his knee as a table. he passes it back to woolly, a roadie who is as much a part of THE ANTI as kaspar is, who gives him a beer in return. “lyn hasn't signed it yet,” he wafts his hand vaguely, offering some, and yet very little, indication of where lyn might've gotten to. the manchester hotel bar is teeming with punk rats and scabs: the anti's loyal following, friends of the scene and other deviants who seldom see daylight ─── only the dingy walls and sticky floors of ballrooms. kaspar finally stretches an arm around belinda, pulling her close into his side. “they're just girls, b,” he says nonchalantly, as if she wasn't just one herself, “they're not very fuckin' interestin' either.” her jacket hangs off her shoulders loosely, and kaspar peels it back a little to kiss her there. one of those just girls sandwiches him at the other side, eager to chew his ear off, and entirely unimpressed by belinda.

⠀ @ V4VILE, RANDOM STARTER 4 U ⠀ CHRIS LEE + LOLA / @spicegrrrl.

“good thing i'm not trying to fool you.” there's a small smile to be heard in his voice, but it is as fleeting as the wind. the very same that whips the gravel path around the wheels of the car, spinning dust up into the grill and through the fans. the chevy is old and coughs it out into the small cabin.