flick a cigarette a metre and it’ll always hit a runaway. though his runaway seems intent on staying in one place, these days. fool for andrew, he’d mistakenly believed neil josten’s home was the foxhole court. the process of graduation -- of pro-leagues while a certain blue-eyed conundrum stayed put elsewhere -- certainly proved him otherwise. it had only been five days since they’d last seen one another, since the forced move back into fox tower at the start of a new semester leaving andrew’s apartment stripped empty and outlandish. five days to hear it on the grapevine that neil had instigated several pissing contests with the new freshmen line-up hopefuls.
typical neil.
❛ i’m beginning to think your death wish is a full-blown psychosis. ❜ the incessant prattling of his humourless boyfriend on the other end of the line wears him thin and thinner, phone switching ears as if it could even out the nerve damage neil’s voice gave him. ❛ making new enemies already? really neil, i thought we were above this now that you’ve graduated to the upperclassmen leagues. ❜
sarcasm drips from his voice. andrew knows better than to think his nuisance has grown.
❛ i can’t have your back from here. stop it. ❜
@pipesdream
