destroy what destroys you

Her knees hit the floor and then she was swinging again, hitting his gut and catching his jaw a few times. “You don’t fucking know, Skunk, you don’t know him. You wanna know what he says to me? He shows me how to fucking live. He helps me. The fuck do you do besides shoot up?”

When he eventually made eye contact with her he felt his stomach stir horribly and drew in on himself. He’d missed her and, fuck, he’d missed her a lot, but this didn’t even seem to be her at all. He felt his eyes grow hot as he thought about it and blinked quickly, pulling them away from hers and letting his hair drop further over his face to hide his expression. Obviously she was right, he was just being stupid again. What was the point in holding onto the thought of people? They always fucking changed, always like this.

"I'm... I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Really, Skunk." She pushed her hair out of her face and looked closely at him. "Are- uh, are you okay?"

She knew Skunk was an addict. But… she didn’t expect this. “How long have you been this fucked up, huh? When did it fucking go from pills to being covered in track marks?”

He let the sentence trail off as he looked over her face, frowning. “Y’look… diff’rent,” he told her, trying to meet her eyes but finding himself uncomfortable every time he did. “…You been hangin’ round Red a lot, huh? Listen, I don’t… know what kinda stuff h’says t’you, but… you shouldn’ be hangin’ with him, y’got this look now like someone else is… got in your eyes or somethin’…” He paused, chewed on the inside of his cheek. “You two got the same look in yer eyes now.”

Her knees hit the floor and then she was swinging again, hitting his gut and catching his jaw a few times. "You don't fucking know, Skunk, you don't know him. You wanna know what he says to me? He shows me how to fucking live. He helps me. The fuck do you do besides shoot up?"

She couldn’t believe how fucking bad he looked. Thin and sickly, skin almost fucking see through. It disgusted her, almost, seeing him so bad.

“Cut me a fuckin’ break, huh?” he said, touching the back of his neck and looking at her only periodically when he wasn’t fixing his eyes on the floor. Though he tried to sound annoyed, he couldn’t help just looking sorry. “What d’you expect, serious?”

She knew Skunk was an addict. But... she didn't expect this. "How long have you been this fucked up, huh? When did it fucking go from pills to being covered in track marks?"

She stepped up the stairs to where he was sitting and grabbed him by his hair, lifting his head to see his face. “Fuck… you really look like shit. Get the fuck up,” she spit, shoving his shoulders. “Get the fuck up! When’s the last time you even looked in a fucking mirror, Skunk?”

“Haze!” he grinned, looking up at her with his eyes heavy. “You been - nah, I thought y’were fuckin’ dead or some shit…” He giggled and touched his cheek absently, looking her over as though he were half awake. “Where y’’been, huh? Heard you been, uh, hangin’ with Red an’ shit, huh?”

She couldn't believe how fucking bad he looked. Thin and sickly, skin almost fucking see through. It disgusted her, almost, seeing him so bad.

He yawned and dug his fingers into his hair, messing it up lazily and only semi-consciously. This was the first time he’d felt properly high in… weeks, but since Weapon had started making new stuff he knew it’d be happening more often since you couldn’t build a tolerance to something you did once then abandoned. Man, he was fucking tired…

She stepped up the stairs to where he was sitting and grabbed him by his hair, lifting his head to see his face. "Fuck... you really look like shit. Get the fuck up," she spit, shoving his shoulders. "Get the fuck up! When's the last time you even looked in a fucking mirror, Skunk?"

La Maison Jean-Pierre Raynaud

I can tell… //She made no move to leave, just tucked stray hair behind her ear and...

I can tell you don't. If you wanted anyone in here at all you wouldn't be so quick to pull a knife... //She paused, observing how tense he looked. His motions so much like a wounded animal.// But that doesn't mean I don't care that you've shut yourself in here, y'know.

//There was something different and Haze could tell. She had’t seen Red in a good while, and while it wasn’t unusual, she just had an odd feeling. It was a feeling that just bubbled up from nowhere sometimes, and she never thought too much of it, just sort of knew it was...

I can tell... //She made no move to leave, just tucked stray hair behind her ear and looked closely at Red and the sheets. His skin was shining and slick, the sheets were stained more than the last time she'd been in his room. A deep ache started from in her chest, and her shoulders felt heavy with how badly she wanted to help, but she knew to keep her distance.// But m'not leavin' unless you make me.