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@txrning-blog
he isn’t going to even l o o k at the traitor next to him. he doesn’t want to l o o k at the traitor next to him.
’ i hate you. ‘
"I know."
They all do, after a while. It's his nature, it's in his blood — like telling a bird not to fly south when winter arrives.
"Trust me, I know."
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Lets himself fall down next to Balthazar. He doesn't say anything, just tugs up a tired smile. It's been a while.
"—-Oh. Yeah. Uh."
shit.
"Been on some sorta fucked up party lately?"
Well, you never knew, right?
"—-What is it?"
Makeup probably, but at this rate—
"Well, you're sort of — "
How do you even describe that without sounding rude.
"Shiny."
hemlock grove + name meanings/allusions
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HEIGHT DIFFERENCE
Oh God, she’s rubbing her face all over now.
“What—did—did I get it?”
"Well, you got — something."
He's not sure he knows what. He doesn't want to ask.
" — Miss, there's something with your face — "
xthimble:
“Bloody hell. Right. Of course not, why would it be that easy? Would you believe me if I told you that was a fairy?”
"Fairies are a very real thing. Didn't know there're any here."
shehound:
”And… you’re okay?”
"Yeah? Sort of?"
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xthimble:
”I’m about 95% sure that you’re just high. You saw nothing, and can go about your business as if that never happened…”
"Yeah, but, yeah, no. There had been something and I'm just not sure to what extend."
shehound:
”Important, huh? What are we even talking about again?”
" — nothing. Absolutely nothing."
xthimble
"I'm not sure if that really happened, or if I'm high right now, to be honest."
hi i’m here does someone need/want a thing —
shehound:
”Nice try. You’re not the most convincing at times, did you know?”
"Uhh. You see, I never said it's not something equally weird or even more so, just that it's probably different. That's important. I guess."
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shehound
"This is — yeah, whatever it looks like, I can't even explain it. It's probably not. But not necessarily."
family } + txrning
playingjuliet:
“Ah, screw you,” Roman returned, dragging Peter in the direction of his bedroom. “If I remember right, you are the one who takes 16 hours. How long have you been on that couch today?”
The Upir grinned at Peter as they entered the bedroom. “I’m glad we’re taking care of Nadia ourselves. I’d hate to have to put a sock on the door or some shit.” Already dressed down for bed (as that’s where he’d been heading before Nadia began to impersonate a siren), he flopped down on to the sheets immediately, tucking in. “Come on. The sheets are soft. 1800 thread count.” He shifted so he was in the middle of the bed, leaving both sides open to Peter for choice, while still guaranteeing Roman his comfort (and, of course, contact). “I probably won’t bite. Unless I get hungry.”
"To my defense, I've been up all night to chase small animals through the woods and maybe eat one or two or five rabbits." He halted in his words, scratching the back of his head for a moment, eyes fixated on some point above Roman's head. "That sounded better when I thought it. It's once a month, you're a constant mess."
Peter's pressing the palm of his hand lightly against his forehead, sighing almost theaterically at the upyr, obviously less in a sleepy than more in a playful mood. "I'd trust on you to count them to make sure you didn't get screwed over." Though, still, he's peeling himself out of his shirt because it's really bad enough he slept in that all day as it is before climbing in to the other, gently, almost affectionately punching against the boy's shoulder. "Warn me if you do."
