[ this cannot be fucking happening. delta did not just call him a fucking fag and punch him in the mouth. he did not just threaten to beat his ass and/or kill him. the taste of blood is sharp, his split lip stinging when he presses his tongue to the cut, turning his stony gaze onto delta.
this is not. fucking. happening. ]
You wanna fucking go? [ he spits blood onto the sand, a caustic laugh bubbling out of him. of course this fucking asshole is just like the rest of his asshole friends. delta might actually be worse. ] Huh? You fucking two-faced bitch.
[ he's glad delta keeps coming. he thinks he can keep shoving him, keep hurling insults at him like ashe hasn't already fucking heard it all, like ashe is just going to sit back and take this like he's still in the ninth fucking grade. it makes it so much easier for him to catch delta across the face with his fist, shoving a knee into his kidneys to topple him into the sand before he can recover.
he presses cold metal against the side of delta's throat, right beneath the cut of his jaw. his mother bought him this switchblade, the same one he got suspended for bringing to school during sophomore year but later got back when he broke into the front office during a friday night football game. it's heavy and familiar in his hand, muted green vines designed in the metal. his mother told him it was for opening bottles at parties, but it comes in handy each time someone thinks they can fuck with him.
he just can't believe it's delta. his jaw tenses, his hair falling forward as he leans in, his knee pushing hard into his ribs. ]
Listen to me, you fucking bitchass snake. I'm not the one to cry to because you can't handle getting fucked in the ass. [ a thin line of red appears across his jaw as he pushes the blade in just slightly. ] I don't fucking care who you are or how many people will miss you. I will fucking gut you like a fish if you ever fucking touch me again. Don't fucking talk to me. Don't look at me. Don't jack off to the memory of my dick in your mouth. I will fucking burn you alive, you lying fucking cocksucker. Now get the fuck out of my s—
[ he snaps his gaze up when a movement catches his eye, the air suddenly pushed out of his lungs when he sees a sight that's become so familiar in his dreams. it's cold. he's fucking freezing like a blizzard is about to tear across the beach, the ruined body of douchebag #47 staggering toward them like he's finally come to make him pay for killing him that night.
ashe hauls delta up by the collar, his hand mashed against his cheek and smeared with blood as he shoves his face toward the sight, his voice rising despite speaking right into his ear. ]
no subject
this is not. fucking. happening. ]
You wanna fucking go? [ he spits blood onto the sand, a caustic laugh bubbling out of him. of course this fucking asshole is just like the rest of his asshole friends. delta might actually be worse. ] Huh? You fucking two-faced bitch.
[ he's glad delta keeps coming. he thinks he can keep shoving him, keep hurling insults at him like ashe hasn't already fucking heard it all, like ashe is just going to sit back and take this like he's still in the ninth fucking grade. it makes it so much easier for him to catch delta across the face with his fist, shoving a knee into his kidneys to topple him into the sand before he can recover.
he presses cold metal against the side of delta's throat, right beneath the cut of his jaw. his mother bought him this switchblade, the same one he got suspended for bringing to school during sophomore year but later got back when he broke into the front office during a friday night football game. it's heavy and familiar in his hand, muted green vines designed in the metal. his mother told him it was for opening bottles at parties, but it comes in handy each time someone thinks they can fuck with him.
he just can't believe it's delta. his jaw tenses, his hair falling forward as he leans in, his knee pushing hard into his ribs. ]
Listen to me, you fucking bitchass snake. I'm not the one to cry to because you can't handle getting fucked in the ass. [ a thin line of red appears across his jaw as he pushes the blade in just slightly. ] I don't fucking care who you are or how many people will miss you. I will fucking gut you like a fish if you ever fucking touch me again. Don't fucking talk to me. Don't look at me. Don't jack off to the memory of my dick in your mouth. I will fucking burn you alive, you lying fucking cocksucker. Now get the fuck out of my s—
[ he snaps his gaze up when a movement catches his eye, the air suddenly pushed out of his lungs when he sees a sight that's become so familiar in his dreams. it's cold. he's fucking freezing like a blizzard is about to tear across the beach, the ruined body of douchebag #47 staggering toward them like he's finally come to make him pay for killing him that night.
ashe hauls delta up by the collar, his hand mashed against his cheek and smeared with blood as he shoves his face toward the sight, his voice rising despite speaking right into his ear. ]
What the fuck is that?