#witherie

ace makes a show of looking around, despite knowing no one else is around, sounding a scoff.   “  you’re not seriously talking to me, are you?  ”  said as if the idea alone is ridiculous.   “  first of all, don’t use the word we with me. ever. second, i don’t know what the fuck you mean by home.  ”  home’s become a concept of the past, far enough behind him that he can barely remember what it’s like to call a place that. he hasn’t found a home at camp, in the cabin of his car, the beds of strangers, the cheap, run-down motels he spends most nights in. and definitely not with her.    “  i’m going to the bar.  ”

“  ugh.  ”  the annoyed groan is over-dramatic, probably, but ace thinks it’s appropriate here. it’s too late to turn around now, act like he hadn’t seen her, though he almost considers it anyway. next, he considers the gun at his side, the many knives strapped to his body, how lead or steel in his temple sounds more desirable than whatever this conversation might hold.   “  you’re alive.  ”  /  @witherie  

@witherie

❛❛                           i’m  not  fuckin’  kissing  you  at  midnight.    you  can  forget  about  it.      find  some  other  douchebag.     ❜❜        //        @witherie

@witherie 

OMG THAN K .

❤ ❤ ❤

      @witherie      ♡’d for a starter.