” ———- … Uh.
… Something about alcohol?”
❝ Something about alcohol. ❞ — He mimics in a high-pitched voice.
❝ Well … yeah, but you’re too busy stuck in these to listen! ❞
The textbooks are taken into his grasp
and thrown out the window.
“No, no —- keep going. Uh.
I was… listening, yeah.”—- actually, he wasn’t.
he’s a little too focused
on that textbook of his.
but, sh;
❝ I spoke of my entire plan!
Oh really? So, what did I say? ❞
 | redhandedprincess-blog ; &&&& *concerned wendy lady puts these here because bro she got your back* |
[ meme ]
Heat invaded his home —- held it as hostage and chocked it’s prisoner to stay. With a defective air conditioner, Ted had no choice but to mask within the sultriness. Green leaves decorated the thick, toast branches of the trees outside of his apartment, grass grew within the empty dirt patches, the ice cream truck circled the block several times to feed squealing children who tugged their parents by the hem of their shirts with their small, nubby fingers, people walked in pairs, women wore sun hats, sunglasses were propped on everyone’s nose, picnics were held outside ——- the atmosphere altered completely.
Summer arrived early.
Ted places his last bottle of beer on the coffee table, condensation still dripping down the side of the casing. The television is on, but he isn’t paying any attention; his focus on the heat enveloping his entire canvas. His body’s perspiring —— soaking his hair, neck, back, and stomach; drenching his shirt. And before he thinks further of it, he rises off the couch to abandon the piece of clothing ——- caring less if Wendy is there. Cool air hits his skin within seconds and a breath of relief leaves him.
Shortly after, there is contact on his back and he flinches; moving away from her touch. Now, it seemed wrong to be shirtless. She has a boyfriend. Even threatened you with his … ‘abilities.’ He doesn’t want to talk about the cut along his shoulder blade; tracing the bone with the skin.
❝ I’m going to take a cold shower.
You can show yourself out. ❞
 | mandeaux ; &&& (*bites at all the seams*) |
[ meme ]
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Ted stares quizzically at his reflection, the steam from the shower still hanging in the air. His light brown hair messy upon his head, some hanging with less volume than usual; damp from his failed attempts at trying to not wet his hair in the quick shower he threw himself into. With a frustrated sigh, the twenty seven year old leaned over slightly, shaking his hair as his fingertips ran over his scalp, trying his best to rid the wetness.
Bare feet patter along the cold, tiled floor —- opening the door to allow the thin, white smoke to escape along with him. One hand pauses on the door knob whilst the other on the towel that hangs low and loose around his waist once his own eyes lock with Martin’s. He freezes; muscles tensing, eyes grow wide, his grip tightens on the door handle. Maybe because he’s just in a towel —- or maybe he just feels vulnerable; almost nude.
Cold air is seethed between closed teeth; gently —- identical to the touch that Martin gives. The way his finger runs over a scar that Ted will always hold a strong memory to. He doesn’t move away, doesn’t tell him to stop. The scar that he has kept hidden alongside his ribcage; a laceration given by a man who had a clear obsession with the former celebrity. Ted had found a way to escape and the demented man had gave him his punishment for it. Ted’s own warm skin contrasts with Martin’s cold —- he had just stepped out a steaming hot shower.
When Martin finally pulls away, Ted wishes he hadn’t.
