( twitchywitchygirls )

                 ( * & — They’re not friends. Or at least, that’s what Kieran’s been telling himself anyway, repeating the words over & over, like a prayer, like a chant, like a mantra, like if he says it enough times maybe it’ll be true. He tries to tell himself that he doesn’t have friends, that he doesn’t care for anyone other than himself, but no matter how profusely he denies it, he never convinces people. By anyone else’s standards, Red counts as his friend. The girl has become a permanent fixture in his life recently, to the point where he feels a small ache in his chest whenever he doesn’t see her for awhile, missing her sarcastic comments & even missing her insults too, as odd as it seems. It makes him feel sick. It makes him feel like The Grinch when his heart expands, leaving the once bitter creature as a newly reformed kind one. Kieran hates it. He hates feeling things. He shouldn’t even like her anyway. Their whole friendship is literally just bickering & then occasionally making fun of people together. Rinse, repeat. It shouldn’t be as pleasant as it is. He shouldn’t crave it as much as he does.

So, although they don’t go around wearing friendship bracelets & having sleepovers where they squeal over their crushes together like school girls, there’s still a connection there, an underlying bond that keeps them in contact with each other. They’re not friends, but they’re not not friends, either. Kieran respects her. He might even go as far as to say that he cares about her too.

Which means that when Kieran sees Red, covered in blood & standing on his doorstep, he’s concerned. Not concerned enough to resist making a joke at her expense, however, with the words, ❛ Hi, Red. You’re looking very red today, ❜ leaving his smirking lips, though it falls away soon after, his features slowly contorting into ones of faint concern. He’s worried, though of course, he won’t admit that out loud.

❛ So, what the hell happened to you then ??

twitchywitchygirls asked:

"If you look like this, I'd hate to see the other guy." (Meme thing)

                    ( * & — He’s never been in so much pain before in his entire life, with blood dripping down from a deep cut on his forehead & spilling over onto his cheeks, turning his whole face the colour of cherry wine. He can’t see anything other than red. Red in the colour of blood, red in the anger he’d felt during his earlier fight, & now Red, the person. He can’t escape it. Truth be told, he’s not sure he wants to. His whole world is red but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Kieran grins at her words, cracked lips straining with the effort. For people like them, it’s as close to a compliment as they’ll ever get, so he’s not going to belittle it.

                        ❛ Don’t worry. You won’t ever have to see him. The only person
                                             who’s gonna see him is a coroner. ❜


Adam was working late. He usually didn’t, but that was when he needed to wake up early for his morning lectures or exams. But since he didn’t have that to worry about this time around, he took on an extra shift at the diner. Besides, he needed the money.

The good thing about the night shift was that not many people came in at midnight. The few who did were more often than not stoners, and they were easy to handle. So he was a little surprised when a girl walked in wearing a gown, her hair in an elegant updo. 

He shouldn’t assume, but given the slight tear stains on her cheeks, Adam would guess she should be on a date right about now. He frowned at the thought. He picked up a menu and walked over to the booth she’d sat in. 

“Hi, I’m Adam. I’ll be your server for tonight.” He smiled at her. “Can I get you anything?”