#vaquitos

“come on,” paul pulls on carlos’ arm, trying to hold him back. “come on!” he shouts again. he holds back carlos to the offending guys, a couple rowdy drunks too nosey for their own good, are past them. he exhales loudly as he relaxes his grip but doesn’t quite let go either. “dude, are you trying to give me another heart attack?” 

WITH  EVERY  FIBRE  OF  HIS  BEING,  IVAR  DOES  NOT  SHARE  THIS  BELIEF.  HE  EVEN  WONDERS  WHETHER  OR  NOT  HE  IS  SUPPOSED  TO  LAUGH.     He  does  so.  The  tone  of  his  laughter  is  bitter  and  he  nearly  chokes  on  his  own  blood  running  from  his  nose.  His  own  hand  comes  in  an  attempt  to  stop  the  bleeding.  Icy  blue  eyes  still  seething  furiously  about  Carlos  implying  what  he’s  implying.     (  Nevermind  Carlos  means  well  and  probably  just  tries  to  suggest  it  did  not  have  to  escalate, if  he’d  been  a  teeny  bit  kinder.  )    Maybe  Ivar  did  not  have  to  answer  with  a  HEADBUTT,  upon  some  assholes  thinking  they  can  HIGH  -  HAT  him  out  of  nowhere.  But  that  IS  the  lesson  Ivar  tends  to  fall  back  to  when  people  dare  to  underestimate  him.     (  He  will  not  become  a  victim  like  his  mother  who’s  always  been  too  kind,  too  concerned  about  her  kids’  safety  but  never  her  own.  )     ❝     Keep  dismissing  unjust  and  avoid  conflicts  wielding  that  kindness  of  yours  for  as  long  as  you  like———  I  promise  you,  it  will  catch  up  with  you  sooner  or  later.     ❞     His  accent,  as  he  speaks,  becomes  thick  through  the  snivels.  With  a  huff  he  stretches  out  both  legs  and  leans  his  head  back.  This  is  what  he  gets  from  trying  to  take  a  walk.     ❝     I’ll  make  sure  to  thank  them  next  time  they  pull  my  leg  or,  more  precisely,  my  crutch  —  which  is  kind  of  the  only  thing  between  me,  ground  and  shattering  my  bones.     ❞     He  drawls  with  a  high  -  pitched  tone,  the  corner  of  his  lips  curling  into  a  crooked  grin  though  as  he  surveys  Carlos  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eyes.     ❝     You  mustn’t  babysit  me.     ❞

@vaquitos​   :   “ 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 , 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺 ?? 𝘪 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘵 . ”

eddie half shrugs, amused, and takes another sip of his beer. “i mean, c’mon, i don’t know if the rest of the bar wants to hear the details.” it’s not a bar he knows, not one of the usual ladder joints he favors in la. there no one would bat an eye if he went into gory details. here, at a bar he’s unfamiliar with, eddie doesn’t to take that chance. even if they’re tucked into a booth by themselves. people like to make scenes. 

adri laughs. “uh, my assumptions,” she exaggerates the word, “are based on observations. come on,” she adds, amused. “ i’m a nurse - i got a knack for reading people.” it comes with the territory, being able to read people helped with the job. probably more than it should’ve sometimes, especially when the higher ups stressed satisfaction ratings like they were restaurant servers instead of trained professionals. “but f you think you’re right, prove it.” 

“You were -” His words are cut off by a long, loud yawn. Paul pulls his phone  away to check the time, it’s barely 4 am. For both their sakes, he hopes this is some kind of stupid prank. “Robbed,” he repeats, voice still raspy from sleep, doubt and surprise swirling together. “Why are you calling me?” For whatever reputation Paul has among his friends, he’s not sure that he’s gonna meet it this early, especially not after a 24. Without sleep and good bit of caffeine, his sherlock skills are useless. 

adri nearly drops the glass she’s washing. she sets it down, not bothering to dry her hands as she rushes to investigate the reason for the screaming. “jesus christ,” adri huffs at carlos. “you screamed over a little mouse?”

@kilfyres