#willedwoods

          “  hmmmmm. i rrrrreally thought it would work this time,  ”  how many walls has alex had to saw through or break just to get emmet out of a pickle he so clearly got himself in willingly? he’d stopped counting after the 7th.  but using doors is such a waste of precious work time.  he tugs on his arm, making sure that yes – it’s very much stuck and not budging.  “  it’s fine! maybe i can get myself out. i just do it the same way. but reverse.  ”

          there it is. he can feel that dizzying adrenaline of a flawless winning streak surging through him, right down to his bones.  sometimes, the excitement of battling is pushed far beyond the limit.  and if ingo happened to not be there to give him that touch to the shoulder and those few sensible words to bring him back down, emmet simply kept going until he crashed.

          “  OH? stressing?  ”  his volume nearly matches that of his brothers, head snapping, unblinking eyes blown wide. he's visibly shaking, a smile stretched wide across his otherwise weary features. the second the subway train comes to a stop at the station, the young trainer who seemed to be seconds away from bursting into tears bolts out of the opening doors. thus, making emmet turn all of his attention towards alex.  “  i think she was verrrrrry fine! why should i 'chill out'? am i not chilled?  ”  his voice is growing louder, his breaths growing more rapid with the still rising excitement.  “  i think i am!  ”

         stares. very confused.  “  –  ooh. you were kidding? alright. i get it. yup,  ”  he doesn't. but the rest of that manages to pique his curiosity way, way more. he rests his palms against his cheeks, leaning across the table very much uncomfortably close to alex, fixing him with an almost giddy stare as be bounces his leg under the table with the gradually growing anticipation.  “  is ingo firing you? that's verrrrry rare. what did you do? was he being scary about it?  ”

         he's been staring at that sandwich for the entire lunch break.  unblinking, unwavering.  even as he lifts his comically large coffee cup back up and takes a sip of the pitch black espresso, he keeps staring. gaze shifting between the other's face and the sandwich  –  mostly the sandwich, though.

         the loud gasp of surprise comes out perfectly genuine as he goes to grab the offering with the speed of light, the smile stretching further across his face.  “  oh! you didn't have to. that's verrrrrry nice of you,  ”  he rocks back and forth on his chair, munching away at the sandwich as he talks.  “  ingo took the last breakfast burrito this morning. can you believe it? and turns out it's the only kind of breakfast we had that's ready in 25 seconds. who has more time than that to cook in the morning?  ”

          he stares, unblinking.  “  – oh,  ”  a hand goes up to tug at the brim of his cap, his lips pursing into a straight line.  is he supposed to say something specific?  ingo has handled most of the employment processes. but this doesn't feel right. not at all.  “  that's, um– unfortunate,  ”  would ingo say that? does he sound like him again? nope. he sounds like a cheap monochrome copy.  “  but– you should do what makes you happy.  yup.  let me know if we can help you settle onto your new tracks.  ”

One time I got plastered at a work event and Ovan almost picked me up from a Dave n Busters parking lot because they were concerned for my safety. 😭😂