blue
he/him
twenty five
february 24
mauville
samsexual
addict
grunt
let us live, since we must die
TAG WITH @knox
knox prescott
graffiti [c]
POSTED ON Dec 31, 2021 17:27:48 GMT
"i used to think that," he says and draws her closer. he kisses her forehead, which simultaneously feels strange and...normal. like they could have been doing this all along. instead of all the games and the lying and the honey-coated insults. they were always terrible to/for each other and knox always blamed their father.
but here they are, still at odds, somewhat, and finding comfort in each other's presence.
"but i don't anymore. i always knew you hated me, yeah, but i knew you loved me too. even if it was all fucked." he snorts.
and then he falls silent, because it really is just so sad, all this wasted time. but summer lightens the mood and the hard line of his lips tilts up and he laughs and then he nearly chokes on his own spit.
"he did what?" sam had promised him or performed for him no such routine. that'll be the first damn thing he asks him about when he gets back (except he won't, because he'll forget, in his still-drug-addled state, when the day comes to reap its consequences, to remind him of the pain he's caused).
his phone's dead now. truly dead. he doesn't even know what day it is.
"we gotta get home, red. tell him you found me, that you wanted to bring me to him to let him..." he exhales. "and tell him you weren't expecting a gardevoir. that i got away, alright? so it's not your fault."
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