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Raegan Northland Blue Ridge Clan - Raegan’s face morphed into something that could only be described as displeasure when that big, cocky grin spread across his face. Despite the wave of nausea he caused her, she was glad to see him smiling. He had a good smile, and if he was smiling, then at least he was trying to enjoy himself. She knew it wasn’t always easy for him to be around her, just like it wasn’t easy for her to be around him—memories, both good and bad, always seemed to hit a little too hard. That was just what happened when someone had been such a big part of your life, especially when they had played such a significant role in shaping it. You didn’t just forget people like that. No matter how much time passed, no matter how much you tried to move forward, the past had a way of clinging to certain people like an old perfume that refused to wash out. “Very useful. I’ll be using them to describe myself from now on. Thank you, Axl, for the use of your dictionary brain,” she mused, voice laced with sarcasm, though there was an undeniable flicker of amusement beneath it all. Her curiosity piqued the moment he kept going, though. Yeah, yeah, she asked for another word, but now she was completely fixated on the hyperthymesia thing. Oh, cool. That explained a lot, actually. It made sense. He always seemed a little too sharp, a little too quick to recall things. He never forgot anything, ever? That was... a lot. Most people struggled to remember their grocery lists, let alone every single detail of their lives. Remembering things to the T usually took repetition, effort, and time, but him? He just saw something, heard something, and it stuck forever? That was insane. Pretty useful, too. And probably a nightmare. She knew what that meant—he wouldn’t forget the things his brain should have hidden away. The things that were supposed to fade over time, the things that were supposed to lose their sting. That... wasn’t good. That was actually pretty awful. “I know what it is, Axl. I am a doctor. We learn things,” she huffed, rolling her eyes at him, though the wheels were already turning in her mind. Right. From now on, I’ll only give him good memories. That’s a solid plan. She grinned. “Brilliant. So you can help me with my notes then—my spelling is atrocious.” She let out a small chuckle, though her lips curled into something smug. “In your dreams. No one just thinks of words like that, and no one just uses them because they can—oh. I mean, other than you, at least,” she cackled, giving him a playful nudge. And then, of course, he kept talking. And, of course, she instantly regretted engaging in conversation with him at all. She raised a brow at him, then scoffed. “A wee bit? Darling?” She mocked the word right back at him, lips twitching up in amusement. “Yeah, no, it’s not. You have no life, sex or not,” she added, giving him a knowing look, though she quickly shivered at the mere thought of knowing anything about that. She squinted at him, her entire face scrunching up like she had just smelled something foul, desperately trying to scrub the conversation from her brain before it went any further. “Good! I don’t want to know about yours either, so, again, let’s just leave it there,” she complained, voice dramatic and full of faux suffering. “The only people who get information like that are my two very old, very close friends and maybe my sister. Maybe.” She gave an exaggerated shudder, face contorting in sheer, over-the-top disgust. Then, he just kept talking. Raegan gasped, shaking her head so aggressively that it was a wonder she didn’t give herself whiplash. Her hands shot up, covering her face as if that would somehow block out whatever horror he was forcing into her brain. “Ughhhhhh, no!” she whined, practically folding into herself, voice high and full of exaggerated agony. “Those were funny! THIS is scarring! And it’s YOUR fault!” Her voice wobbled between horrified and hysterical, like she couldn’t decide whether to laugh or scream. After a moment, she peeked up at him through her fingers, eyes narrowed in pure, seething betrayal. “The more you talk, the worse it gets. Stop talking!” she playfully sobbed, shaking her head as if she were moments away from a full-blown breakdown. She peeked up at him again, her brows pinched together. “I just got my sanity back. You ruined it.” Her voice was a quiet, dramatic whisper, dripping with sarcasm. And still, he kept going. Raegan turned her head so fast that she nearly gave herself whiplash again, crossing her arms over her chest like she was an offended Victorian lady about to faint onto a chaise lounge. “No! Never!” she declared, voice full of mock betrayal. “I’ll never look at you again! Those false memories you just put in my mind are vile!” She turned her nose up at him, but the second the conversation shifted to the onesie, she caved immediately, her pout back in full force. “You have no dignity in my mind anymore. Please, wear the onesie?” she asked, clasping her hands together in mock pleading. “It’ll look so good on you! Plus, my house is cold as hell, and I wouldn’t want your highness freezing to death, would we?” Her brows furrowed in mock concern before she gasped, eyes bright with a terrible idea. “Pleaseeee let me buy you a onesie! It’d be the best purchase I’ve ever made,” she whined, bottom lip jutted out like a spoiled child about to throw a fit. She quickly waved a hand, shaking her head. “No, no, I meant, it’s not abnormal for people to wander through the village. People don’t just waltz into my home,” she amended, laughing softly. “No one will murder you, promise.” Her gaze flickered over him, amusement tugging at the corners of her lips. It was hard to believe someone like him had done anything dangerous, ever, especially when he was this close to giggling over a onesie. “Alright, alright. No danger here. I know nothing,” she teased. Then, her eyes narrowed, lips pursing slightly. “But I’m still pretty sure it’s a secret that you’re taking over.” She sighed dramatically, placing a hand over her chest as if she were genuinely wounded. “I’m very offended you don’t trust me with your dangerous information.” She then grinned, eyes flashing. “Oh, I know you know what you’re doing. You whip out that bodacious drawl, get what you want, and walk away, don’t you?” She snickered, shaking her head. “No, no, you’re so perfect! I just like watching you struggle with things,” she admitted with a smirk. She arched a brow. “Right. I’ll pack a bag tonight, and you can lug it around. You’re paying for gas, food, accommodation—basically, for me to exist,” she mused, lips twitching up in amusement. “This could be a very expensive escape plan for you.” Then, she scoffed. “Hey! Nothing’s wrong with a fanny pack. They’re useful.” Her mind drifted, just a little, following his gaze back to the bar from where they sat. She couldn’t remember a time where she had felt so... light. It had helped. He had helped—more than he could ever possibly know. These talks, these moments where they could just sit and exist without the weight of everything pressing down on them, they were doing something. She felt like she was getting something back, something they had lost, no matter how broken and shattered that thing had become. She had gotten her apology. She had waited years for that. Sorry didn’t fix anything. Nothing would. Nothing could undo what had happened, nothing could erase the betrayal she had felt, or the way she had hated herself afterward. She had hated how she hadn’t noticed something was wrong. She had hated how she had hurt him, even if she hadn’t meant to. If she had known... if she had really known, they could have talked it out. He would have known that it wasn’t because she thought he wasn’t strong enough. It wasn’t because she didn’t believe in him. It was because she couldn’t leave. She couldn’t leave her family. Her father had already been sick, they had all known where he was heading. They had all known he wouldn’t have lasted much longer. She had managed to convince herself, at some point, that the stress of what had happened to her had tipped him over the edge. He had died just after she had started talking again. And yet, she hadn’t been able to do anything. She hadn’t been able to say goodbye properly. She hadn’t been able to hold him, to squeeze him tight, to tell him how much she loved him. She hadn’t even been comfortable around anyone at the time. She couldn’t physically make herself touch anyone for... what? A year? Maybe longer? Not until she had started working in the hospital, where touch became necessary rather than something she could avoid. But she had her apology now. And they were both getting... better. She hoped so, anyway. She let out a slow breath, offering him a softer smile, though her brows pinched together slightly. She didn’t want to be comforted—she just wanted to know that he regretted it. That he wouldn’t do it again. If he would... well, that was something else entirely. But he wasn’t going to. Not again. “It’s okay, Axl. Everything’s okay now,” she whispered, her voice gentle, but firm. Maybe back then it would have meant something more. Maybe back then it would have been easier to hear. But now, they needed to push past this. She wanted to wipe the memory from her brain entirely. And maybe she never really could, but at least now, at least this way, she had her best friend back. Or... well. Maybe she wasn’t his best friend anymore. Maybe he had moved on. Maybe he had found someone else to take her place. But he was still hers, whether he liked it or not. He would be, at some point. She watched him wander off, and when he returned, she offered him a more genuine smile as he handed her the drink. She sipped on it quietly, watching as he sat there, clearly trying to figure out what he was going to do about getting home. He wasn’t driving. That was not happening. He had been drinking, yes, but he had also just sobbed his heart out in front of the entire bar. He needed to breathe. He needed to calm down. He needed to not get into a car when his emotions were still sitting on the surface like an open wound. “You don’t bother me. You never have,” she murmured, watching him carefully before setting her drink down. “I don’t want you to crash. If you do, you can’t come over for our unicorn movie night, and not only that, but I’ll have to spend the next week looking after you in the hospital, which I also don’t want to happen,” she mused, her voice light but carrying an undertone of sincerity. |
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Axl Jager King Clan +++ Axl couldn't help but laugh at her face. She seemed so appalled and yet she was still amused. That was exactly what he wanted. Annoying her right up to the line, but to where she was still trying not to laugh. He never drove her past that, but that line was the best spot ever. It helped him remember the best days of his life, back when they were the best of friends. Back when they did everything together. Back when they would hide from girls that were trying to find him and prank them. He had loved those days. One particular memory came to him... not surprisingly it was one of their common movie nights. They were both flopped across the same couch, with a popcorn bowl in between them. He picked up a piece and tossed it at her, and it managed to smack her right in the middle of the forehead. She had yelped and gave him a huff, whacking his foot with hers and sending a popcorn flying his way. With all of his skill and expertise, he had caught it in his mouth, grinning like a madman. "Your inmature fighting tactics will not work on me." He sniffed in a regal tone. "Inmature?" She exclaimed, grabbing a handful of popcorn and chucking at him. "Take THAT Mr. Perfect!" She had cackled, while he tried to save himself from the attack of the popcorn. It had quickly turned into a full blown fight, and when the popcorn bowl was empty, they wrestled until he had her pinned. "I win again!" He crowed, rolling off and grabbing one of the hundred popcorn pieces nearby, crunching on it. "Still edible." He had grinned while she giggled. A faint smile lingered on his face as the memory faded. Those had been the best days of his life, no doubt about it. He'd give anything to get them back. He directed his attention to her as she spoke. "My dictionary brain IS useful, no sarcasm necessary." He sniffed, but honestly, he'd rather FORGET everything. It would make a lot of things harder, but he wouldn't be so traumatized. He could practically see her gears turning as she thought about how useful- and horrible- it would be to have his special curse. It was useful for a lot of things. Specifically remembering small details about people that helped him later. Especially stuff like her Iced caramel frapp with an extra shot of vanilla. "Well sorry that I underestimated your doctor smarts." He snorted, rolling his eyes. He just wanted to make sure she remembered, in case se hadn't seen it in a while. It usually caused insanity, and a lot of mental issues, so that was fun. Apparently he didn't have to tell her that, either. "Spell atrocious." He teased, looking amused. "I can definitely help you. I've always absolutely hated words and English in general - which is the biggest reason I like learning other languages - but I'm good at spelling." Mostly because when he was young, he read a lot of books, so he could spell... but he couldn't pronounce words to save his life. Like, at all. He had once inflected the word essay so wrong that Konig didn't know what he was saying. He had said esSAY instead of ESsay. English was fucking stupid. "Ay, people have said some weird stuff to me." He shrugged. Actually, he had watched this one person get arrested in front of his eyes. Totally not his fault... "I have a life!" He protested. "Don't you remember the whole I'm-going-to-be-the-owner-of-a-very-big-company thing? The whole Ima-be-a-billionaire speech?" He asked with a huff. "I didn't get there by not having a life." Okay, he didn't have a real good life. He had a work life, but that was different. He wasn't normal, that's for sure. "Your sister?" A pause, then his head tilted. "Two questions- you're sharing your sex life with your sister? And yiu have a sister? I thought I remember that you only had a brother... Paxton, was his name?" Okay, he was pretending not to really remember, but he knew everything about that boring dude. They had a low-middle place in the clan, weren't very important, and likely would be rated 5/10 in everything. "it's not MY fault! You brought it up!" Somehow, the amusement of seeing her so disgusted overruled his own disgust, and his grin widened. "I can't stop taaaaalking! It's impoooooossssiiiiibbbbllleeeeeee." He whined, drawing out each word just to talk longer. Her horror was HILARIOUS. He bit his lip to keep from grinning so wide his face split open, shoulders shaking slightly with held in laughter. "I did NOT ruin anything. I am as near perfect as a human can be." He scoffed dramatically, then gave her an overly pitiful puppy eyed look. "But I'm so fun to look at." He whimpered. She could not stop looking at him now. Impossible. "I DO have SOME dignity. Somewhere. It may not be OPENLY VISIBLE, but it is there. Invisible, but there." He huffe dramatically. Even in her mind. No way could he parade around in a suit then immediately go to unicorn onesie a day later. "I can't freeze to death- I love the cold." he snorted. That argument wouldn't work. His own house lingered around 55-60 degrees. His eyes narrowed at her like he was contemplating life. "On a scale of 1-10, just how happy would it make you?" He finally asked cautiously. Oh, the things he would do for her. "Oh, that's muuuuch more reassuring." He chuckled, then shook his head. "I beeeelieve you. Mostly." Plus, if he did, it was totally her fault. "It's not a SECRET that I'm taking over- it's a secret that it's happening so soon." Everyone knew he'd take over someday, just not this soon. He'd likely give a lot of people whiplash. "Oh- wait a minute." He suddenly realized something she said about the onesie. Brain- lag. "I would NOT look good in a onesie. Don't you dare even try and say that." He huffed. Axl placed his own hand on his chest, looking offended. "I would NEVER knowingly trick people into believing me with my bodacious drawl." He drawled, smirking. "That reminds me, I thought up a song." He cleared his throat, lifting his nose. "Iiiiiiiffff youuuuu're sexy and you know it clap your hands." He cheekily tapped his hands together, smirk widening. "If you sexy and you know it clap your hands." Again, he tapped his hands together. "If you're sexy and you know it then your abs will really show it if you're sexy and you know it clap your hands." The last two taps managed to sound smug, too. "Oh, thanks. I'm glad I can make you happy by watching me struggle." He rolled his eyes. Of course THAT would make her happy. "I will gladly pay for you to exist." He grinned. "It's quite easy for me to, actually." He joked with a smug look. - Axl stared into space as he thought about a lotof things. Honestly, he didn't WANT to be thinking right now, but he couldn't help it. He was finally completely calm... it had only taken a couple minutes, but it still sucked, and he was not ready to return to normal life. He had decided to just stay here until he recovered then drive home- that should be fine. He didn't live too far away. Maybe twenty minutes, but without the traffic, he'd likely go a little faster and make it 15. A couple long minutes later, he glanced at her. "Are you driving home? How'd you arrive?" He asked quietly. He was still worried about her, of course, but even she managed to hold together better than him. He was weak. After they both had their drinks, he sipped his glass slowly, letting the alcohol burn his tongue and throat slowly, pulling him into reality. The burn always helped. Pain, in general, helped. He could feel his head grow slightly numb, that buzzed feeling rolling up, so he set the drink down, content to stare at it for a little while. A very faint smile flitted onto his face at her words. "Right. Me not being bale to come over for unicorn night would be devastating. How could I forget." He mused quietly. "I'll just wait here till everything wears off. Then I'll drive home. The cold air will wake me up." That, at least, was true. It had progressively gotten chillier, and he only had the leather jacket he was wearing, so on a bike, it'd be a chilly ride home. Perfect for bringing his mind into the present. |
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Raegan Northland Blue Ridge Clan - Raegan let her eyes wander the place, scanning the near-empty bar. Most people had already filed out—it was late, very late. The ones who had things going for them had left ages ago. Really, they should have left at least an hour and a half ago, but she didn’t want to. She liked sitting here with him, letting him take the piss out of her while she tried—tried being the key word—to retort. She wasn’t as quick or as witty as him, but still, he seemed to enjoy it. The only people left were the drunkards, the lifers, and the kids who were clearly too young to be drinking fruit juice, never mind the lethal amounts of alcohol they were downing. She sniffed at his comment about the dictionary brain, letting out a huff of air. “Please! What would you even use that for now? It’s all very well and good winning spelling bees when you’re a kid, but now what do you do with it? Sit over people’s shoulders and tell them how wrong they are?” she mused, the words soft but teasing. After a beat, she let out a snicker. “And—yes. Sarcasm with you is absolutely necessary. You think I could seriously compliment you? Absolutely not!” She cackled, shaking her head at the idea. She nodded after a moment, her nose wrinkling slightly before she let out a sigh. “I went to school. I’m very doctor smart. I’m also very voodoo-woodsy smart. All of the smartness,” she mused happily, rather proud of the whole thing. And she should be. She had worked hard. She had learned so much from her mother, and half the things she did in the hospital weren’t things you’d find in a normal hospital, but she had still gone through actual schooling. She had still graduated with top grades, all while dealing with the death of her father and, of course, her injury. She was fully planning on going back to school once she had saved up enough, get some sort of neuroscience degree. That would be cool. Atrocious? That was an easy word. The issue with the English language was that you never said things the way you spelled them—and then there were the words that looked the same but had different meanings entirely. Like... wood and would. Or effect and affect. Simple things like that made it harder than it needed to be. “Contrary to popular belief, English is a very hard language to learn. Spelling is harder—there’s so many sounds you have to make,” she murmured. Then, she cocked her head at him, letting a playful glint dance in her eyes. “Atrocious. A-t-t-r-o-c-i-o-u-s?” she asked, purposefully spelling it wrong just to bother him. She then leaned forward slightly, curiosity sparking across her features. “Weird stuff? You can’t just say that and not tell me what sort of weird stuff they’re saying,” she giggled, watching him expectantly. She pouted at his next comment, rolling her eyes. “Fine, whatever, you have a life. Whatever you say, Mr. President,” she cackled, scrunching up her nose at him. “Yes, yes, I remember. You’re gonna be a big business owner, and you’re gonna be a billionaire. You’re gonna wear fancy suits and go to big meetings. You’re gonna be world-renowned,” she mused, offering him a grin. Was it weird to be proud of someone she had only just reconnected with? Yeah. A little. But she was proud. She wished she had gotten to see him grow up into this person with this big life and huge future, but she was glad she was here now, even if she had missed the in-between. Her eyes widened slightly, and she let out a small snicker. “My sister—she’s my cousin, Ori. She lived with us a few years back. She was there after... you know, the incident. And I’ve always called her my sister,” she clarified. He wouldn’t have known much about it. But her family was close, and Ori had lost her parents when she was sixteen. They had taken her in. So, to her, Ori was a sister. She then furrowed her brows, pouting slightly. “She’s my best friend! I tell her everything, she tells me everything—it’s not my fault you’re not close with your family,” she scoffed, an amused chuckle slipping past her lips. After a moment, she nodded, settling back into her seat. “Yep. Paxton. I haven’t seen him in... two years now? And he definitely doesn’t get to know about my vibrant sex life,” she snickered, shaking her head at how ridiculous this conversation had become. She quickly shook her head, her body falsely convulsing at the very thought of what they were talking about. “You’re the one talking like an escort! This is not my fault! You should know how to talk to people—you’re a businessman!” she huffed, covering her mouth with her hands as if she was really about to throw up. Not too far from the truth, actually. “Stooop Taaallllkiiiinggggg!!” she whined, pointing at him accusingly. “Stop talking or I’ll make you stop, and you won’t like how I do it,” she muttered, her voice dropping into something vaguely threatening. She rolled her eyes, puffing out her cheeks. “We’ve gone over this! You’re perfect, but you can still ruin things,” she grumbled, fingers tapping against her glass. After a moment, she let her eyes flicker over him, before letting out a soft huff of air. “Yep. Your funky ass is very fun to look at,” she teased, snickering softly. Raegan’s face lit up at his next words, her eyes glinting mischievously. “In my eyes, there’s no dignity left for you,” she mused, smirking. “I’ve seen you hiding in bushes. You. Have. No. Dignity.” She then gawked at him, her expression horrified. “No! You can’t freeze to death in my house! How would that look for me if the great Axl Jager died in my home? I don’t care how much you like the cold.” Then, as if a switch had flipped, her entire face lit up, her excitement tenfold. She sipped her drink, giggling. “On a scale from one to ten?” She beamed at him, her cheeks puffing up in a grin. “Ten. All day long. I’d be the happiest woman alive,” she chirped. Her head tilted slightly at his words. So it wasn’t a secret, but it was? Whatever the case, she was glad he trusted her enough to tell her. “Okay, but you still told me. How do you know I won’t go blabbering off to my friends about it?” she teased, chuckling. “You must trust meeee,” she snickered, watching him with amused eyes. After a moment, she let out a cackle. “You would! You would look great in a onesie! Especially one with wings and a horn. Oh, Axl, you’d look so good. And you’re gonna let me take a picture when I finally wrestle you into one—I’ll put it on my fridge,” she declared, grinning ear to ear. As soon as he started singing and clapping—and who knows what else—she immediately buried her face into her knees, covering her ears. But not before downing the rest of her drink. “That word! Stop it!” she whined. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have made me sit through that.” Raegan stared at him when it finally stopped, her expression blank—before she gagged. Again. “I take back everything I said. You are not bodacious,” she huffed, crossing her arms. “And I’m sorry to tell you, but your abs really aren’t showing it,” she added with a cackle, waving a dismissive hand at him in an incredibly playful manner. At his smug look, she let out a long, exaggerated breath, slumping dramatically in her seat. “Stop looking at me like that—like you own the very floor I walk on,” she groaned, tossing her head back. “I get it, you could pay for me to live easily, but you really, really don’t have to look smug about it!!” She let out a softer breath this time, sinking back against the chair as she crossed her legs up on the seat, clearly relieved that—for the moment—his teasing had stopped. But, really? She loved the teasing. It meant he felt comfortable enough to joke around with her, which was nothing but a good thing. She loved laughing. She loved that he knew how to make her laugh, even when she couldn’t always do it herself. “You know, Axl,” she mused, a smirk tugging at her lips, “it’s a wonder I don’t leave this place passed out. The amount of alcohol I have to ingest just to stop myself from crying at your awful singing voice is insane.” She shook her head quickly, sitting up a little straighter. “I’m gonna need you to promise you’ll message me when you get home,” she huffed, her brows furrowing. She didn’t want him walking back and getting lost... or driving home and crashing, or getting hurt, or something awful. Nothing like that. She then tilted her head slightly, a small chuckle slipping out. “I got the bus,” she admitted with a shrug. She took the bus everywhere—she didn’t mind walking a little. But then, something seemed to click in her head, and her eyes widened slightly. “You know,” she started, her voice dragging just a little as she played up the dramatics, “that visit to the ranch? I don’t drive—is there anyyyy teeeennnnyyyy chance you could pick me up?” she asked, giving him the smallest, sheepish chuckle. She wouldn’t have asked if she had any other way of getting there, but… she didn’t. And she couldn’t ask her family to drop her off—they’d wonder why she was going, and then she’d have to explain that she was meeting with the heir of the King’s clan. Yeah, that wouldn’t go over well. When he reassured her that he’d let it wear off, she smiled softly. “Can’t forget it. It’ll be a night to remember,” she murmured. Then, after a brief pause, she gave him a pointed look. “And make sure you chug some water or something. Anything. Just please don’t go anywhere for at least another… half an hour. And eat something!” |
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Axl Jager King Clan +++ Axl followed her gaze around the bar, noticing how few patrons were left. Well, obviously. It was, like, 2 am now. The only people left were people no one wanted to be around. He wrinkled his nose as a guy flat out pulled a cartoon and stumbled into a pillar. "Sometimes..." He sighed, shaking his head. People were crazy. He would never go to a bar and drink his grief away, if that's what they were doing. No, he'd do that in the safety of his home. . His eyebrows shot up at her incredulous words about his dictionary brain. "For one, it helps me sounds smarter than everyone else. I'm very descriptive and I'm great at writing books. I don't have to use stupid shit like Grammarly to write essays." He sniffed haughtily. How dare she insult his dictionary brain. "It is NOT. You could just be kind and give me an actual compliment." He scoffed, shaking his head. Because of course she couldn't just compliment him. . His lips twitched into a smile as she defended her smarts. "Okay okay. You're very smart. In all the ways." He conceded, chuckling. He knew she was extremely smart, and worked hard for that. He believed that. His own intelligence was different. More patient. Considering he had been planning his revenge ever since he was 11. Ever since Konig murdered his family without any remorse. He had gone to school for this, spend years waiting, planning, executing. One month. One month and everything would be better. One year and Konig would be dead. His life may just be turning for the better. . "English is one of THE hardest to languages to learn. That's why I love German. Easy peasy." He grinned, then nodded. English, spelling, saying- it all just sucked. As she attempted - and failed miserably- to spell the word, he rolled his eyes. Purposeful, but still very sad. "I'm really disappointed in every last one of your braincells right now." He assumed a serious look, wrinkling his nose slightly. "Quite honestly, I am horrendously appalled at your revolting and downright inaccurate spelling of the words atrocious. I truly doth hope you can take a class in spelling." He sniffed with an air of regalness only he managed to aquire. His eyebrows lifted slightly at her expectant words, tapping his fingers against the table. "... a lot?" He ventured, snorting. "I once had someone tell me that my fingers were attractive. I was a bit mystified- can you possibly guess why- but I managed to ask how. They said they liked the way my poor, sextually assaulted fingers BENT." He wrinkled his nose. It was a true WTF moment. He had kind of just looked at them really weird and sidled off. Run away, run away. . "I have a life." He reiterated with a sniff, nodding at her words. "Yes, yes, yes, and.. yes. Good job." He grinned. Well, the first to and last one. He may not even make it to those big meeting before he took the place to the ground. "Ohhh." He understood that cousin thing- and it made him a little more smug. He had remembered correctly. Something hyperthymesia actually did help him with. He had thought that she only had a brother, but that made sense. Sienna was technically his half sister, but he loved her and called her his sister. When she was alive, that is. "That- no. I could have a best friend, like better than best, and I would NEVER share that information." He shuddered slightly. That didn't make sense. "What FAMILY. You think I'm going to talk about my SEX LIFE with KONIG?" He made a disgusted face. That would be the end of the world. 100 percent. "Haven't you ever wondered why you hadn't heard about any family that wasn't Konig?" He asked with a shake of his head. "Vibrant? You're right, this conversation needs to end." He wrinkled his nose. . "I am NOT. YOU started this conversation! I DO know how to talk to people- but I am not in business mode right now." He huffed in exasperation. One hundo percent HER fault. He did NOTHING wrong. Except kindle the flame. "I refuse!" He exclaimed gallantly, though his voice never raised above a normal octave. He wasn't quick enough in time to hold it back and a squeaking laugh worked its way out at her less than threatening words. "I will keep talking JUST to see what you think you're gonna do." He teased. "I am good at ruining things." Axl snorted, then gave her a mock offended look. "It tis noooot. It it perfectly normal if not above average, thankyouverymuch." . He rolled his eyes at her look, pressing his lips together. "People who hide in bushes can have dignity." He grumbled. "And I was running away from that physcopath that was convinced I was her next meal." A full body shudder followed that sentence. "It would look great, actually." He snorted sarcastically. His eyebrows drew together a little as she lit up like a Christmas tree, realizing how much trouble he got himself into with that one sentence. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he groaned quietly. Of course she would attack him with the one thing he couldn't resist. He always wanted to make her happy. No matter what. And happiest woman alive sounded pretty damn happy. "I cannot believe I'm considering this." He mumbled to himself in slight awe. "I think you've broken me." He cast a playful glare at her, then tipped his head back and forth thoughtfully. "If you do end up buying me a unicorn onesie, do not tell me, as I will die before I get to your house. I want it to be a surprise so I can collapse inside and the evidence will be plain and simple." He huffed out a breath of air. "But fine. Ish. For YOU and YOUR happiness, must I add." On the upside, she probably wouldn't see much threat in a 6'4 fluffy unicorn. . "I don't." He made a face. "It's not like I can stop you. But I'm 90 percent sure you will realize it is important information that should not be spread just yet." Axl put an emphasis on the word important. Plus, 90 percent was good for him. Since he was 100 percent sure, as a child, that his whole family wouldn't die in a fire, he had learned being sure of something didn't mean anything. "I DO trust you but that is beside the point." Actually, he trusted her more than anyone else. Mostly because there was NO one else, but also because if she did anything to hurt him, he would deserve it, so it didn't matter anyway. "No I would NOT. And there will be NO PICTURE. That would cement my failure in life for eternity." Or as long as he lived, if he wasn't being overly dramatic like always. . "I can't stop! It's an amazing song and deserves a Grammy." He grinned ear to ear, laughing maniacally. He wouldn't say it out loud, for fear it'd bring up unwanted feelings, but it was BECAUSE he loved her that he had to tease her. He wouldn't do this to anyone else. In the world. . He threw her an offended glance. "I am very bodaciois." He huffed. Pure shock and horror took over his expression- fake, of course- as she insulted his BEAUTIFUL abs. "Excuse YOU but you can't REALLY see my wondrous abs with two layers of clothing, thank you very much." He exclaimed. . "Ummmmm..." His gaze lit up evilly. "I HATE to say it... but I DID technically pay for this bowling alley to be constructed." He was damn near cackling with mischeviois intent. "I do TOO have to look VERY smug about it. That was in the job description of hot rich guy." - Axl wasn't sure if he could even remember how to start his bike right now, so he probably wouldn't be driving home immediately. However, he was not leaving his precious baby here, nor was he staying in the ratty room above the bar. He wanted his king size bed and memory foam mattress. Lucky for him, maybe, his insomnia meant he didn't sleep more than 3 hours in a night, so he didn't have to worry about not sleeping because he wasn't home. However, he didn't want to be bored the whole time, so he needed to return to his house and watch a movie. At the moment he was in the mood for Pacific Rim or Real Steel. Something with robots. Or giant metal Jaegers that people controlled. He still couldn't believe they messed up that name. Took it from German and ADDED A LETTER. Totally not fair. He turned his attention, slowly, to her as she started speaking, golden eyes very very slowly focusing. Against his will, a small snort escaped. He should not be amused at the moment, but he was. Damn his brain. "For one, my singing voice is delightful. I'll bring my guitar over for our movie night and show you. You just disliked the song. For two, can I please walk you to the bus stop? My slow brain has just realized it is almost 2AM in the morning and the bus stop is ten minutes away while walking and I don't want you walking there alone. Especially with, as you've said, the amount of alcohol you've ingested." It wasn't really a question- he might beg to make her say yes, but he was going whatever the answer was. He could walk her there and walk back, and by the his mind would be mostly clear. Wait a couple minutes and he'd probably be good to go. (Just pretending she already told him bout the bus thing lol. Whoops. I kinda forgot that technically hadn't come up yet) . He smiled faintly at her huffing tone, tilting his head. "I will if you will." He joked half heartedly, then nodded. "The bus is a great form of transportation." He mused. Honestly, he almost would prefer it- it was easier than having to focus on what you were doing. However, his bike was ten times better, just because he loved the feeling of the wind tugging at his clothes and the ground rushing by. His head tilted again as she started speaking again, and he immediately figured out what she was saying and nodded slightly. "If you want me to, I will. There is a big chance, not just a teeeennnnyyyy one." He smiled slightly as he copied her tone. He mentally reminded himself that he'd have to take a car instead of his bike, then, as he knew she wouldn't want to be THAT close to him without being able to get away. That was okay, though. He loved his Trans Am just as much. . "Yes, this night will be hard to forget. Not just because of the hyperthymesia." Even if he didn't have that little thing, he would not be forgetting this night, for various reasons. Good and bad. "I know to deal with some depression and a little alcohol." He snorted quietly. "I'll be fine. And I won't leave unless it is on foot with you." To get her to the bus station. He immensely disliked the thought of her walking through the backroads of Dallas, alone, at night. The very thought made him a little sick. Funny how he was worried about other people hurting her when he was the only one that really had. "Eat something?" He wrinkled his nose. "I'll do that when I get home. Likely. It'll also likely be ice cream, but that is beside the point." |
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Raegan Northland Blue Ridge Clan - Raegan turned her head at the sound of his voice, her gaze briefly flicking toward the very drunk man as he stumbled away. She still had no idea what had happened earlier, though she wasn’t completely blind—she could tell when someone was getting the stare of death. And judging by the way that guy practically scurried off, he had definitely felt it. Letting out a soft sigh, she shook her head, resting her chin in her palm as she mused, “Sometimes people are just assholes, and we have to deal with it.” Her voice was calm, resigned. People were... odd. She had learned that long ago. Some of them lacked basic intelligence, others lacked common decency, and a few—well, a few of them lacked even the will to live. And that? That was something she didn’t understand. At all. Hell, she’d been as good as dead once, lying on a bloodstained floor, barely breathing. But even then—even then—she had dragged herself back. Back to her family. Back to the people who had loved her unconditionally—even if they didn’t always like her. She quirked a brow at him, suddenly looking as if she had just made some life-altering discovery. “Oh yeah? No Grammarly, huh?” she asked, tilting her head with an amused smirk. She remembered downloading that stupid program once, back in her last year of university. It was trash. Did not help at all. “Well then, you are clever. You didn’t fall victim to the YouTube Grammarly ads,” she snickered, shaking her head. She had. Very much so. Or—well, at the very least, she had seen about five thousand ads for it every single week and had prayed that if she just downloaded the damn thing, maybe—just maybe—they’d leave her alone. Spoiler alert: they did not. Her nose scrunched slightly as she considered his next comment. Be kind? Give a compliment? Oh, hell no. Not happening. She let out an exaggerated scoff, crossing her arms over her chest. “Me? Kind to you?” she repeated, her voice practically dripping with sarcasm. “Now, why would I do that?” But after a beat, she sighed, straightening in her chair as if she was reluctantly accepting a challenge. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders, cleared her throat, and deadpanned, “Okay, okay. Lemme try.” She paused dramatically, then finally said, “Your ass isn’t all that funky. Actually, it’s quite... ass-like.” She beamed at him, her face the picture of innocence, then blinked expectantly. “…Alright! You’ve been complimented! Now you do me!” she chirped, grinning. When he actually agreed that she was smart, she let out a delighted giggle. She had worked for that. She was never the most academic person, but she knew what she wanted and had gone for it. That had to be pretty respectable, right? She thought so. She was proud of herself for it, anyway. At least she had enjoyed university. She had gotten to study what she loved—helping people. Helping them fix things they didn’t think they could, learning how to be a shoulder for them when they needed it. She had figured out how to be someone people didn’t just need—but wanted—in their lives. And she was glad for that. Raegan hummed thoughtfully, then gave a small nod, her expression unreadable. She knew for a fact that everyone outside the States thought Americans were thick as fuck. And honestly? She couldn’t even blame them. She thought so too. After living in the Netherlands for a while, she had realized something: people there were just... normal. They had common sense. They didn’t do half the dumb shit she saw on a daily basis back home. Americans, on the other hand? Absolutely not. Yet, somehow—somehow—they all managed to learn one of the hardest languages out there. It was a weird paradox. German wasn’t that different from Dutch, though, and she figured if she really put her mind to it, she could pick up some of it. Yeah, she probably could. But honestly? She had way more important things to do than learning an entire language just for shits and giggles. Her grin widened when he took her little misspelling and turned it into a whole thing. Oh, this was good. Something for him to take the piss out of her with. She could already tell he wasn’t going to let her live it down. The thought made her giggle, but at the same time, she groaned dramatically. “MY BAD!” she huffed, throwing her hands up. “Lemme just redownload Grammarly so I don’t make that mistake again...” she trailed off with a laugh, rolling her eyes. But as he kept going, her expression shifted—slowly morphing from amusement into something more... concerned. “Your fingers... huh?” she asked, brows raising. But the longer he continued, the harder she started laughing. Dear god. “That’s an... interesting thing to say to someone you don’t know,” she snickered, shaking her head. She took a breath, but the next thing out of his mouth had her cackling again. “Get your poor fingers some counseling,” she managed to say, her voice full of exaggerated pity. “That sort of assault isn’t something you ever recover from,” she murmured, sticking out her bottom lip as if she were consoling a child. When he told her good job, she grinned—though it was more playful than anything. At least she had actually remembered what he said. That was already a win. Her memory? Awful. Well—short-term memory, at least. Long-term memory? The stuff she had to study in school? That was freakishly good. But everyday things? Completely gone within an hour. She let out a dramatic pout. “Well, that sucks for you,” she huffed, crossing her arms. “You’ll never know the pleasure of giggling with your friends about something stupid someone did or said.” She shook her head with mock disappointment. Maybe it was a girl thing. She and her friends did it constantly, and it usually ended with them laughing so hard they could barely breathe. When he brought up his father, she just snorted. “Oh, Axl. I get talking with your friends—but your father?” she scoffed, giving him a look. “Come on, don’t you think that’s crossing a line?” She grinned, shaking her head. “Make yourself some close friends, have monthly slumber parties, talk about your life. Best experience of your whole damn life.” She paused then, tilting her head slightly, her curiosity piqued. “I have wondered,” she admitted, watching him carefully. “But I figured—why ask? You’d tell me if you wanted to.” She studied him for a moment, then raised a brow. “Alright, you’ve got me now,” she mused, exhaling a small laugh. “Wanna tell me why you don’t talk about anyone but König?” Her gaze flickered over him, but when he tried to brush it off, she just rolled her eyes. “Well, end the conversation then!” she said, throwing her hands up. “You’re the one keeping it going by nitpicking,” she pointed out with a smirk. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she shook her head at him. “If this is you not in business mode, I cannot even begin to imagine what you sound like in business mode,” she mused, raising a skeptical brow. Now that was something she’d like to see. Did he turn into some scary boss guy? Or was he still... him? Who knew. “And you continued the conversation,” she reminded him, smirking. “You can brush past things, Axl.” How had that noise come out of a man like him? She feared she would never know. And frankly? She didn’t think she wanted to. Her face twisted in amused horror, but before he could even try to keep talking, she cut him off with a huff. “If you keep talking, I’m gonna spike your lunchtime coffee with Malibu,” she threatened, leaning forward. “And I have a feeling you won’t like that.” She narrowed her eyes at him, tilting her head slightly. “Or—I might just shove a shot of it down your throat, just to watch you cough and complain about it. Anything to make you shut up,” she added, her tone nothing short of childish. She shook her head, exhaling through her nose as she leveled him with a look. “People that get chased by teenage girls have no dignity. People who hide in bushes? They have even less.” She narrowed her eyes at him, lips twitching up into a smirk. “You have minus dignity. Negative. You’re in the red,” she huffed, the sarcasm dripping from her voice. Her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned back, amusement dancing in her gaze. “Your super gorgeous, perfect face got you into a lot of trouble when we were younger, if I remember correctly,” she mused, thinking back on all the times she had been forced to hide with him—squatting behind trash cans, darting into alleyways, stuffing themselves into the smallest spaces imaginable just to avoid a horde of lovestruck teenage girls. Good. Times. When he kind of agreed to wear a suit, her grin practically split her face in two. She jabbed a finger into his side, poking at him like an excited child. “Oh, you’ll be brilliant! You’ll make my whole year!” she chirped, her voice light and teasing. She pouted when he claimed she broke him, tilting her head slightly. “It’s fine,” she mused, waving a dismissive hand. “I’ll fix you later.” She paused for a beat, then nodded, satisfied with that conclusion. “In the meantime, I need to find the perfect onesie.” Her expression turned devious as he warned her not to tell him what it was. “Deal.” She snickered, eyes practically glinting with mischief. “Your first sighting of it will be when it’s just laid out on my couch. No warning. No announcement. Just vibes.” She hummed softly at his next comments, nodding to herself. Yeah, he was right. She wouldn’t say anything. The information would be out soon enough, and besides—she hated spoilers. Plus, the fact that he was even telling her about it in the first place? It meant he trusted her, and that wasn’t something she took lightly. She groaned dramatically as he insisted he couldn’t stop, throwing her head back as if she were suffering. “What if I said pleaaaaase stop?” she whined, lips forming into an exaggerated pout. “I’ll nominate you for a Grammy if you stop.” She paused, eyes lighting up with amusement. “Actually—scratch that. I think some frat guys would love it,” she snickered, grinning at him. She then let her gaze flick up and down his form before shaking her head slowly. “Nope. If I can’t see your abs through two layers of clothing, they can’t be that good.” She squinted at him playfully. “At least, not good enough to be in the main chorus of a song. Work harder,” she teased, her voice thick with amusement. The look she gave him when he smugly reminded her that he had paid for the bowling alley could have killed a man. A slow, deadpan blink, followed by an unimpressed stare. She sucked in a breath through her teeth, shaking her head at him. “Oh, shut up,” she muttered, but there was a clear laugh bubbling beneath her words. “You’re not that hot, and you’re not that rich—yet.” She wagged a finger at him, her smirk playful. “And, might I remind you, I am also your friend? Stop rubbing it in my face that you can do this kind of shit,” she huffed, her tone as dramatic as ever. She didn’t actually mean it, of course—the bowling alley was fucking amazing, even if she still suspected it was rigged. She cocked her head slightly when he mentioned bringing the guitar over for movie night, and suddenly? A beautiful image entered her mind. A 6’ something man, dressed in a unicorn onesie, sitting in her living room, strumming a guitar and serenading her against her will. Oh, this was absolutely happening. Her grin widened, eyes full of mischief. “Yessir! You do that,” she chirped, nodding eagerly. “I’ll make a little stage for you and everything—just anything but the clap your hands if you’re bodacious song.” She visibly shuddered, actually gagging slightly at the memory of it. After a moment, though, her teasing softened, and she shot him a warm smile. She did walk back there all the time. The bus was her go-to mode of transport—always had been. Late nights, weird hours, none of it was particularly new to her. But still, she wouldn’t say no to a bit of company. “Shit... it’s 2 already?” she muttered, glancing toward the clock in the corner. How the bar was still open was a mystery to her. She turned back to him with a friendly smile. “I do this all the time, you know,” she said lightly. “I don’t need you there... but the company would be nice.” Her gaze flickered over him, her expression warm. “Very gentlemanly of you, Jäger,” she chuckled, nudging him slightly. She flashed him a little grin before nodding. “Alrighty then! We both are!” she chirped, as if they had just come to some groundbreaking agreement. When he agreed to take her to the ranch, she let out a soft breath of relief. Thank god. That saved her from walking ten miles in the blistering heat. “Thank you. I don’t wanna show up to see your little sponsored kid all sweaty and gross,” she mused, wrinkling her nose at the thought. Then, with zero warning, she reached into her bag and thrust a breakfast bar into his hands. “Alright then. You’re leaving with me. On foot,” she announced, her voice full of finality. Before he could argue, she leveled him with a stern look. “And you’re not going anywhere without eating something - but icecream when you get home is a brilliant plan.” She crossed her arms, tilting her head slightly, her voice taking on a distinctly motherly tone. “That’s how things go wrong.” Her eyes windened slightly. "Icecream and chug water, then bed," she muttered, as though talking to herself. Yes, that was a good plan, and one she'd certainly be taking into action as soon as she made it into her own home. Edited at March 7, 2025 03:58 AM by Belle
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Axl Jager King Clan +++ Axl resisted the very strong urge to roll his eyes, only to not bother himself with wasting the energy. He disliked stupid people- so, most of the population. If he asked someone to spell orange and they asked him the color or the fruit- that had actually happened- he was going to smack them. They deserved it. If their IQ was lower than the bar people set for them- the one patrons were tripping over in hell- then they needed to do something different. Get a new brain. Something. He didn't know how people could be so clueless. It was truly depressing how common sense was now endangered. He glanced at her as she sighed, snorting quietly. "Sometimes?" He mused. It was a rhetorical question. In his experience, all people were assholes. Rich people even more so. See, while she didn't understand how people couldn't have a will to live because she had been almost dead and brought herself back to her loved ones, he didn't understand because he had been almost dead with no loved ones left... and he had still fought through. Some days he wished he hadn't, but if he could find a will to live in this messed up world, everyone could. He had nearly died that night after dragging himself out of the fire. The doctors nearly had to amputate his arm, but they managed to save it. He had been in a Coma for three long months. The doctors had said he wasn't going to wake up, but it wasn't like Konig cared, so he had just sat there. Then, sometime, against all odds... he had woken up. Learned how to use his arm again. He was right handed before the accident, but now he was fully ambidextrous if not a little left handed because he had used his left hand for more than a year afterward. . "I despiste Grammarly." His upper lift curled in disgust. "And the ads. The ADS. There are SO many of them. Everywhere." He shuddered, then nodded slightly. "Yeah, no. If ANYTHING puts that many ads ANYWHERE it is obviously corrupt and needs to be destroyed." He huffed. He had literally dreamt about those fricking Grammarly ads when he did sleep, which wasn't often. . Axl watched carefully, expectantly, as she thought about the suggestion, then refused. Outright refused. "YES. Kind to me." He sniffed, waiting even more expectantly now. His head tilted slightly as he stared at her, patient as ever. He watched her suck in a deep breath, then accepted the challenge. Sitting back, a pleased look on his face, he waited... then his eyebrows shot up. "Ohmigosh. She actually said something nice-ish! Like, a reverse insult instead of a compliment, but close enough! Congratulations!" He clapped quietly, grinning. "And thank you very much, I am very happy with your reverse insult." . A moment later, he drew his brows together like he was thinking VERY hard, pressing his lips together. "HMMMMMM." He hummed, tapping the table with his fingers. "I don't knowwwww.... I can't think up anything off the top of my head..." He mused, Biting his lip to keep from smiling. "You are definitely an amazing medic, the best I've ever met. You're also very pretty, and very smart, as you have said before." He stated, wrinkling his nose. "You're right, that didn't feel right. Back to sarcasm." He said cheerfully, chuckling. . He would never deny that she wasn't smart- he knew she had worked very hard to learn things, and that was the kind of person he loved the most. Someone who worked for what they got. It was funny how Americans made the hardest language to ever frigging exist then wondered why people were making grammar mistakes and why children couldn't learn it. . "Grammarly can't help you while you're TALKING. Nothing can help you." He sniffed dramatically. She was a total lost cause. No more to the matter. At her concerned expression, he couldn't help but smile a little, but it morphed into an injured look and a huff as she laughed. "Do NOT laugh at that. I was THOROUGHLY TRAUMATIZED." He exclaimed, a shiver racking his body. "Interesting? No, it was downright criminal. My POOR fingers. I tried to get them counseling but whenever they think of the incident, they break down. They did not recover, have not recovered since. They still are scared when they feel someone near." He stated in a woeful tone, hiding his hand for a moment for good measure. His fingers had been assaulted, and it was not okay. "Our crime fighting agencies have to get on top of things like this. I bet there are fingers being violated everywhere and no one will do anything about it." He muttered, just barely keeping himself from grinning like a madman. It had been a bit traumatizing, but he had pulled through. . He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "I do not need to giggle with friends about stupid stuff." He sniffed. He didn't bother saying that was what he had done with her, and no one else got the right to hear him 'giggling'. Though it couldn't really be considered that, and was one hundo percento evil. "The POINT of my sentence was asking WHO I would talk with because I CAN'T talk with my father, in case you missed it." He deadpanned, then wrinkled his nose. "I can't just make close friends. Friendships like that take years to foster." He snorted. "And talking about my life would traumatize any normal soul, so I'd have to find a rare person who was as weird as I am. Or in the ballpark, anyway." It could take years to find the right person, years to get to know them well enough to start saying shit like that, and with his luck they'd end up only wanting his money or something terrible like that and then leaving. . "Smart of you. However, you did just say I wasn't close enough with my family to talk about the words I am also sick of saying. That meant you assumed I had more than one living family member." He snorted heavily. It was a good thing he was messed up in the head because most people wouldn't be able to easily talk about their crispy loved ones. It ain't well done steak, it's congratulations. "As you may have guessed from my former sentence, I don't talk about anyone but Konig because I don't have anyone but him." He shrugged. "Unlike you, I don't have living siblings, and my mother, father, grandmother, and grandfather all were single children. Meaning no aunts or uncles or cousins or great aunts or great uncles or nieces or nephews, etc." Honestly, it was a little mind boggling how thin his family tree had gotten. If it wasn't for Konig, he might have a little niece running around right now. Sierra had always VERY firmly said if she had a child, she was naming it Charlotte. He always asked what if it was a boy, and she always said it would have to be a girl. She had loved the name Charlotte because of Charlotte's Web... and spiders were her favorite animal. He smiled slightly, thinking of it. He couldn't imagine what life would be like if he still had her. "I am NOT. Be quiet." He huffed. Totally not him. Shush. . "Not in business mode is USUALLY better than business mode, but you've obviously screwed up my control panel." Axl sniffed. "And my business mode just means I'm mind bogglingly boring. No jokes. I don't usually smile, either." He made a face. "I hate business mode." It made him feel like an emotionless statue. Ugh. "I'm apparently terrible at brushing past things." He groaned quietly. . He opened his mouth to say something else when a viable threat came out of her mouth and he paused. "Dear God. That would be bad. I'd return to my office with a delightful cup o' coffee, sit down, take a sip, and promptly spew it all over the paperwork I was working on." He wrinkled his nose. "No no no, we're good. I won't speak." He lifted his hands in surrender. "About that subject, that is." Flashing a cocky grin, he smirked. . "It's not MY fault that I got chased by teenage girls. It's my MOTHER'S fault. She was too damn pretty." He huffed. "Apparently those genes and whatever Konig had got passed onto me, a fine specimen, and it is QUITE the curse." He stated with a dramatic flair. "I only hid in a bush to protect my sanity and respect, thankyouverymuch." He sniffed. That was a completely valid reason. If a guy was chasing after HER like that, he'd hide her in a bush while he tanned their hide, but that was a different story altogether. "I am NOT. Your vision must be all red because my dignity is VERY HIGH." Axl protested. She was SO WRONG. He had BOATLOADS of dignity. "Thank you and thanks you." He sniffed as she admitted it was a totally super gorgeous perfect face...then he realized there were words that came after that and he made a face. "Doesn't everyone get in a lot of trouble in their teenage years?" He mumbled, shivering slightly at the horrifying places he would've been if not for hiding. Probably sexually assaulted, mhm, that was for sure. Some of those people needed to have a permanent residence in an asylum. . He winced as she grinned like he had just told her he had solved world hunger or something, covering his side and trying to protect himself from the violent pokes. "Yeesh! You're going to see daylight if you poke much harder." He glanced at her with a sliiiightly concerned look. "You can't fix me if I drop dead the moment I see it, so go easy?" He begged quietly, not wanting to even try to think up the monstrosities going through her head right now. "Oo yay. I hope your floor is carpeted." He said sarcastically, internally wondering what mistakes he had made in life to get him to the time when he would agree to wear a weird ass onesie just to make someone happy. . "Pleaaaaaaase stop won't make it aaaaaaany better." He copied her tone the best he could, putting a little whiny pout into his voice. "Your first sentence was acceptable but then you ruined it. That particular song is restricted for your ears only." He snorted heavily. As she glanced him over, he rolled his eyes, looking offended. "It's a LEATHER JACKET. I could have a book strapped to my stomach and you wouldn't be able to tell." He scoffed. Leather teeeeeended to conceal quite a bit, thank you very much. "They totally are. And if you keep talking I'll have to prove it so I suggest you stop." He stated haughtily, a smile teasing at his lips. . He resisted the urge to wince at her stare. She had a death glare, yesssiry, but it was nowhere near as bad as his. He had a cold glare that could freeze souls where they stepped. One that burrowed into your very mind and uncovered all the dark dirty secrets you'd been hiding, then looked disappointed in you for it. However, hers still wasn't very fun to look at. "I'm terrible at shutting up, if you haven't guessed." He pointed out helpfully, then gave her an injured glance. "I am hot, and I willlll be rich. Soon." Soon enough, anyway. One month, technically. "Huh. Forgot about that. Okay thennnn, I'll rub it in other people's faces that will APPRECIATE it more." He sniffed. He really wouldn't- he would much prefer the planet think him ugly and dirt poor, because his whole life he had acquaintances that were only that because of his looks or money. It infuriated him that people were that shallow. . He watched as her eyes lit up and INSTANTLY regretted his words, but he also knew, immediately, that it'd be a night to never forget. "I do not need a stage, I need a chair, because I'm too lazy to do it standing." He snorted. "Also, it's extremely hard to play guitar to that song, so I'm not going to attempt it. Lastly, you better have a set list ready." He joked with a grin. "I can't go in not knowing what songs to play, now, can I?" Actually, he probably could, as he had played every song over the rainbow. Maybe not GOOD, but still. As long as she had good music taste. And he didn't have to play more than three or so songs. . Immediately after knowing this he felt extremely bad. Like, very very bad. How had he not wondered how she got back all those nights? He should've been a LITTLE more concerned. Even if she didn't want company, he should've asked, shown that he did care about her SURVIVING. Good God, sometimes he wondered if his brain functioned at all. "Yup." He wrinkled his nose slightly, looking with disdain at the clock. He turned his gaze back to her as she spoke, nodding slightly. "Well good, because I'm coming." And then walking back. And then driving home. He probably wouldn't even get home till 3. Ah, the wonders of having a breakdown where there was alcohol. "What can I say, I've always been the gentleman." His voice was slightly sarcastic. No, people said he should be a gentleman and he laughed at them. Big difference. But with her, it was different . His eyebrows lifted slightly as she sighed in relief. "Did you really expect me to say no?" He asked with a slight wrinkle of his nose. "You won't be sweaty and gross, but your hair may be a wee bit windblown. There ain't a top on my car at the moment. However, if you want, I can put it back on." He stated. He had his specific trans am customized to have an easy convertible top because, like the bike, he loved the wind. It was rather freeing. . He looked a little taken aback as suddenly there was a breakfast bar in his hands. ".... you just carry those around with you?" He wondered quietly, shaking his head before nodding a little. He assuuuumed she meant she wasn't kidnapping him and was allowing him to return here, but he could figure that out later. "Okay then." He wasn't going to argue with THAT tone. Yeesh. Must be how she sounded when dealing with unruly patients, which he was NOT. "I guess we'd better get going, then." He scanned the table quickly to make sure nothing was left, then stood, a bit glad he hadn't brought anything that he would have to carry. |
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Raegan Northland Blue Ridge Clan - The woman smiled softly at his comment and gave a short shrug. People were… well, they were awful. The number of people she had to deal with daily who didn’t have even the basic intelligence to sit still was absolutely insane. It was all well and good to be academically smart, but even some of the completely freaky book people she met had absolutely zero common sense. How on earth some people had made it into their early twenties was beyond her. What do you mean, you went skydiving and forgot the parachute? That sort of feels like something you should remember. What do you mean, you squared up to a guy three times your size and didn’t think you’d get beaten within an inch of your life? Crazy. People were crazy. If you could cull all the people who couldn’t do basic things like tell the time, the world would be a better place. She wrinkled her nose at that thought, though. Paxton, bless his boring, dull heart, couldn’t tell the time until he was at least sixteen. She took the absolute piss out of him for that, and he deserved it too. "Okay then… all the time. You know how many people have started trying to fight me while they were in a hospital bed? Like, please let me help, I can’t possibly hurt you any more," she huffed, pouting at the very thought. She couldn’t help her little chuckle at his mention of that horrific Grammarly ad. Yes, that truly was awful. The ads were everywhere. And the app itself? Fucking useless. All a girl ever really needed was spell check and Word. Yep, that was a pretty good fucking tool. She shook her head slowly, though, watching his features twist from one utterly disgusted expression to another, like Grammarly itself had personally offended him."Ssshhh, princess, it’s okay. Grammarly can’t get to you here," she murmured softly, her tone painfully condescending. She, however, agreed. Grammarly had to be destroyed. She watched as his face lit up into something happier, and she just sat there, grinning dumbly. "You’re welcome! I nearly couldn’t find anything I actually meant, but I did it! Aren’t you proud?" She asked, her brows pinching together as though she had just achieved something groundbreaking. She had just become the Queen of England as far as she was concerned. It then turned into a bit of a pout, though. "It was NOT a reverse insult. It was a compliment. Your ass is so, completely and utterly… normal," she told him, deadpan, like it was some kind of great achievement. Not that she was looking at his ass or anything. She squared her shoulders as she watched him, her eyes bright as she waited for him to find something nice to say, and despite his teasing, her smile stayed just as bright. She just giggled at his last comment, though. "I know. It feels weird, huh? It was your idea, though," she mused, a little laugh escaping her. "But thank you! I know it was hard, finding something nice to say, but we’ll get through it together. The recovery will be long and slow, but the two of us will make it. We will go back to being awful to each other, I promiseeee," she mused, her tone already so sarcastic. Her face then twisted slightly. "But I also feel like my compliment wasn’t as good as yours. Let me try again: You’re... I mean, you have to be smart, and apparently, you have nice fingers. You’re funny as hell, too. I haven’t laughed like I do with you in…" she paused for a moment, counting on her fingers. "A good six or so years," she huffed. Her eyes wandered down to his fingers, and she gave him the most ridiculous baby voice. "Awww, you poor thing...s?" She paused for a moment, then sighed softly, shaking her head in mock sympathy. "It’s okay. We’ll fix it. We’ll get you all the help you need, and I—" She looked up at him for a moment, and then, she just lost it. "I’m sorry, I can’t—I can’t not laugh at that," she snickered, running her hands over her face as her entire body shook with laughter. What do you MEAN some stranger came up to him and said they liked the way his fingers bent? That was fucking crazy. Only in Texas would that sort of absolute nonsense happen. She sat there, giggling uncontrollably, until her eyes actually started to water, because the mental image of his poor, assaulted fingers and his sheer discomfort was too much. She could see the look on his face. The horror. The betrayal. The existential crisis of a lifetime. She held her hand up to her face, trying to hold her breath until she managed to calm down, but it wasn’t working. "I’m sorry, Axl. That might just be the best thing I’ve ever heard. Whoever said that is a complete legend, and it’s going in my book of quotes," she mused, still grinning like an idiot. She just pouted as he rolled his eyes, giving him a look that was somewhere between playful and expectant. “Yes, you do! Be the girl you’ve always wanted to be! There’s still time before you become a big boss man,” she mused lightly, a teasing lilt to her voice. She could remember, back when she was younger, how easy it was to just be with people. She’d have her little group of friends over nearly every other day, crammed into her room with food and snacks, laughing until she cried over things that probably weren’t even that funny. She missed that—missed them. She didn’t speak to many people now, not really. She had one or two very close friends, Ori, and she supposed Axl was a friend too, but it wasn’t like she could just invite him over to sit cross-legged on her bed and gossip about life. Unless that was something he wanted, but somehow, she doubted he was a teenage girl at heart. “You can talk to me! Not about that, but you can talk to me,” she murmured gently, the weight of sincerity creeping into her tone. “I’d like to think I’m... near the ballpark? I’m definitely not in it, though.” She snickered, giving him a once-over like she was trying to imagine what it would take to scale the metaphorical fence into his version of normal. If she ever did make it in, it wouldn’t be because she walked through the gates—it would be because he dragged her over, kicking and screaming, into the near insanity that was him. She cocked her head, slowly, as he spoke. Like he had more family? That was something she’d always just assumed—that there were more people out there, more connections. She’d never really noticed before, but now that she thought about it, he’d never mentioned anyone else. “I mean... yeah, I just assumed you had more family out there,” she murmured, her voice gentler now, her words a little more careful. It was strange to her, the idea that someone could not have a sprawling web of family members scattered in different places. Her mother had two siblings, and on that side alone, she had at least five cousins. Her father had his brother, and before he died, he had Ori. So that made six cousins, two aunts, and a dead uncle. And of course, there was Pax—but whatever. She didn’t speak to him much anymore. Not after he went to uni and came back a walking zombie. Whatever. Her frown deepened slightly as she considered it all. She couldn’t help but wonder what had happened—why he didn’t have more family, why it was just his parents. She wondered what happened to his mother, too, but she knew better than to ask. If he wanted to tell her, he would. So, she bit her tongue, swallowed the thought, and instead offered a small, sheepish smile. “I’m sorry to hear that.” A pause, then a soft huff of amusement. “You can always borrow my family when I’m not using them.” She smiled over at him after a second, tilting her head slightly. “Oh—well, in that case, you’re not in business mode. You’re not at all boring, and I happen to think you’re quite funny. So, not to worry, your control panel isn’t as faulty as we may have thought,” she chuckled, the corners of her lips quirking up. Then she rolled her eyes slightly at the thought of it. She was the same, most of the time. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would be like to have to switch around like that, jumping between different versions of yourself for different people. Her patients needed a friendly face, not some stiff, business-like persona, and that was what she gave them—most of the time. Unless, of course, they were being exceptionally annoying, but that was a different issue altogether. She flashed him a look, nose scrunching slightly as she tried to picture the image in her head. Oh, yes, it was a bloody good one. Him, sitting there all proper, probably dressed up in something obnoxiously formal, and then—bam. Spitting his perfectly spiked coffee all over whatever very important documents were in front of him. She smirked, almost disappointed, but still, she shook her head dramatically. “Fiiinnneee. I won’t do that. Hug and make up or whatever... but let’s just please leave the topic alone? I might actually throw up if you say anything else about it,” she sighed, running a hand over her face. Her expression shifted into something amused, brows raising slightly as she shot him a look. “Awh, were you a mummy’s boy?” she asked, voice dripping with mock sweetness, though there was an underlying fondness to her teasing. She chuckled softly, then tilted her head in thought. “I bet you were so sweet when you were little,” she mused, as if trying to picture it. She considered König for a moment, then shrugged. “I dunno. I know you don’t like the man, but you have soooome of his features. Like, the hair is very König,” she pointed out, a casual observation, nothing more. But then her eyes flickered back to his face, and she smirked. Regal. That was the word for it. His whole attitude was so regal sometimes—but only Axl could manage to look like that while also taking the absolute piss out of someone at the same time. She shook her head, grinning. "I never see red. I see your lack of dignity," she declared, her grin widening. "Although, I also see that you’re not ready to admit that, so let us move on,” she cackled, the pure joy of the statement practically radiating off her. Hmph. No, in her eyes, he had no dignity. She’d seen him do some rather questionable things throughout his very awkward teenage years. That alone was enough to revoke any remaining claims to dignity. She then shrugged, her expression shifting into something more thoughtful. “I never really got into trouble. Much to my disappointment at the time, I didn’t get chased around by raging teenage boys—” she paused, her lip curling slightly as the reality of that sank in. “Although, thinking about it, that would probably be incredibly scary.” She pouted after a moment, her lips pursing as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Was that a threat? Are you threatening me?” she demanded, jabbing his ribs once more before finally sitting up. Oh, she had a plan. A big, fluffy onesie, probably two sizes too big, covered in ridiculous pink wings and a horn. That would be perfect. She’d find one, she was sure of it. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll even throw in a bottle of whiskey to go with it. No death will be involved an—” She cut herself off, blinking at him as she registered the audacity in his expression. “What? You doubt my ability to bring people back from the dead? Wwwwhhhyyyy?!” she whined dramatically, clutching her chest like he’d personally offended her. Obviously, she couldn’t actually do that, but she could at least prevent his death. That was something she could do. It would be very upsetting if he died, especially in her own home— Horrible manners, really. She nodded quickly after a moment, regaining her composure. “Yep! They’re all fluffy. I had new ones put in last year,” she grinned, rather proud of herself for that little upgrade. She damn near screamed when he threatened to prove himself, her eyes widening as she shook her head furiously, kicking his leg under the table like that might physically stop whatever chaos was about to unfold. “Axl! You cannot say things like that!” she hissed, her gaze darting around as if expecting the walls to have ears. She then leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a whisper. “Do you know what’ll happen?” she asked, her tone eerily serious. “You’ll try to prove yourself by stripping like the escort you are, I’ll throw up, and the crazy girls of Dallas will hear the rustle of your clothes and come running.” She let the words hang in the air for dramatic effect, before smirking. “Then, you’ll have to run. Far and fast.” She could already picture it—him, sprinting down the street in some ridiculous state of undress, panic written all over his face as a horde of love-crazed girls chased after him. She wouldn’t stop them, either. That was his battle to fight. Raegan just stared at him, then slowly shook her head. Nope. No way in hell was she about to sit there and listen to him go on about how hot and rich he was—she’d already been subjected to that once, and while, sure, it was cool as fuck, she did not need to hear it all over again. She’d just end up crying out of secondhand embarrassment and maybe throwing up in protest. “Well, we’ll fix that before you get rich. You’re gonna have to learn to hold your tongue if we’re ever gonna run away,” she cackled, nudging him with her foot under the table before gesturing toward the last few lingering men at the bar. “Be my guest! Go tell them how fancy and famous you are. They’ll loooveee it,” she mused, her grin stretching wide with mischief. She cocked her head, her gaze sweeping over him like she was assessing something. “You need a chair? You’re lazy?” she teased, her cheeks puffing slightly as she tried to hold in a laugh. “You can’t be that lazy—you said you had great abs. If you can’t stand for long enough to play me a song, we’re gonna have biiiigggg problems,” she added, her laughter teetering on the edge of evil. It wasn’t even a threat—just a fact. He would play her a song, and he would do it on some old, rickety stool, and he would do it because she said so. He could try to argue all he wanted, but it was happening. “I’ll send you a few I wanna hear,” she hummed happily, already planning the perfect selection. She rolled her eyes, sighing heavily like he was being so dramatic. She could get back just fine. She’d had no issues in ages, and there was no one around at this hour anyway. Well, except for the bus drivers, but they were half asleep, so hardly a real threat. “You say that like I don’t have a choice. Don’t I? What if I wanted some fresh air to myself?” she asked, tilting her head like the thought actually had some weight. It didn’t, not really. In truth, she wanted to sit here and talk to him for as long as possible, but she also did have to get back and, you know, sleep, so she could function at work. Still, she grinned at him, her expression all too perfect. “Yes. Always—you’ve been nothing but the perfect gentleman since we met,” she mused sweetly, voice dripping with mock sincerity. Well, except for that one night. Not super gentlemanly of him. She shrugged slightly, giving him a knowing look. “Kind of. I had a feeling you didn’t want people seeing us together,” she admitted, not unkindly. It made sense. It wouldn’t look good for either of their clans if he was just chauffeuring her around for no reason. That wasn’t smart. She then quirked a brow at him, her curiosity piqued. “No hood?” she repeated, before breaking into a small chuckle. “You know, I’ve never been in a car without a hood. What’s it like?” she asked, her tone almost childishly eager. It was probably just like being in a windy car, but whatever. If it was warm and dry, then why not? Raegan nodded at his suggestion to go, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she started toward the door. She only had to pause for a moment, though, as the world decided to do a quick spin around her. Yep. Food. Lots of water. Then bed. She cocked her head at his question about the breakfast bar, then nodded as she absentmindedly reached into her bag. She was always on the go, barely stopping long enough for a real breakfast, so she always had some kind of snack tucked away. It was useful in times like these. “Yep. I have more if you want another,” she hummed lightly, tossing him a glance as she peeled open the wrapper. |
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Axl Jager King Clan +++ He snorted heavily at hercomment, inclining his head slightly. "I once watched a young teen, there with their parents, walk into the section outside my office and see the manual pencil sharpener. They glanced around, then stuck their finger in and turned the handle. They then jerked their now bloody and mutilated finger out, screaming, and bolted. I had been incredulous as to what was happening, so I hadn't stopped them. There is no hope for humanity." He commented drily. He hadn't known they'd ACTUALLY try to sharpen their finger. "Then I felt bad for the janitor, having to clean up the blood they splattered everywhere." It was a mess, honestly. It had really made him lose hope in the next generation. Axl rolled his eyes at her cooing, but his tone was a bit heartbroken. "...Really? Are you sure I won't be viciously attacked the moment I open my phone?" For good measure, he added a tremble to his tone and glanced fearfully at his pocket afterward, as if the ads would jump out and assault him. He despised Grammarly, since a lot of his job was online. He had immaculate grammar, yet it still thought it needed to shove itself into every aspect of his work. He spent more time furiously trying to close the ads where the X was like Mercury and his finger was like the sun than he did actually working. "Oh, and you actually meant it? Extra points! I am very proud!" He didn't know whether to cry or cheer that they were having this conversation. His eyebrows lifted slightly as she defended herself, then repeated herself, which almost made it worse. Pressing his lips together, he debated it for a moment before wrinkling his nose. "I'm flattered." He finally replied drily. "My ideas are never good ones, you know that." He huffed. "Remember the time I suggested we pretend we were rich, go to a fancy restaurant, then pretend we forgot our wallets? That ended with us getting banned from the restaurant AND having to pay." He made a face. That had not been one of his brightest ideas. Hey, at least he could pay the restaurant to unban them, if he wanted- but it hadn't been that good. They could suffer without his money. "I'm very reassured by that." He nodded, tone thankful. "I am so lucky to know I don't have to be nice to you again. That knowledge alone will make my recovery faster." He hummed, then arched an eyebrow. "You doooon't? Reaaaalllyyyy?" He tried not to be sarcastic, but it just sounded worse. He half choked as she mentioned the fingers again, but his eyes twinkled slightly. "Thank you so very much for your eloquent compliment, m'lady. I will take it to heart." As in... he'd never let her forget the day she said he was funny as hell. That was his best trait, in his opinion. He was almost amazed that she was able to do that without breaking down, but it quickly turned int a playful glare as she started laughing beyond repair. His betrayed look grew worse as she kept giggling until her eyes practically shone with water. "NO. They are NOT a legend, they are the MAIN SOURCE OF MY TRAUMA. My FINGERS will NEVER recover from this ABUSE. I REPORTED it to the AUTHORITIES and they said SEXUAL ASSAULT can only be reported if it happened to a HUMAN. They DE-HUMANIZED my FINGERS and REFUSED to help me. MY FATHER WILL BE HEARING ABOUT THIS." He went on a dramatic schfeel, ending with the telltale snobby rich kid voice and the words every human dreaded. All joking, of course, but he knew exactly what to say to make it even funnier. He threw her a concerned glance. "In this day and age, you could say that to any person and they'd think you were normal." He shuddered. "I have NEVER wanted to be a girl, thankyouverymuch, and I do not need to giggle over my sex life with some derranged guy that was idiotic enough to come within 100 feet of me." He snorted, then laughed slightly. "I'll make sure to keep in mind I can't talk to you about that, but thanks for the offer." His voice was sarcastic. Per usual. A slight chuckle erupted next. "No, you're not quite near enough it for me to grab you and drag you in. Sadly for me." He looked a bit sorrowful for a moment. Like he wasn't just discussing driving her insane. Literally. "Ah, well, I guess most people have living relatives." His eyes narrowed as he stared into space and wondered, for a moment, what it was like to have family when you were an adult. Or even a teenager. His lips lifted slightly as she jokingly offered to borrow her family to him. "Very sweet of you." He replied flatly. "How delightful! I'm not fried yet." Axl stated cheerfully. "I'm glad someone thinks I'm funny." He sniffed afterward. He was in business mode 90 percent of the time, so the only time he really joked around was with her. He didn't have anybody else to joke around with. "We wouldn't want you throwing up, now, would we?" With a resigned sigh, he decided to stop speaking. He, for one, did not want to be helping clean up that mess. No one else would want to witness it, and he was sure she didn't want it to happen either. "Hard to be a daddy's boy when he's not around for the first 11 years of your life." He snorted, shaking his head. Otto was a great father, but he loved Raina more. She was his real mother, so that helped. As she tilted her head, he watched her carefully, then wrinkled his nose. "Yes, but mooostly because I was around much sweeter people." After a second, he smiled. "I grew up in Blue Ridge Clan, did you know that?" He offered, tilting his head. He didn't think he had ever told her. "Oh, ouch." He coughed, then grinned. "Well, the hair isn't the worst thing to have. Let's hope you're not talking about the salt and pepper look, though." He chuckled. Konig was greying, and Axl shouldn't be. As far as he knew, his hair was black as midnight. "I do NOTTTTT have a LAAAACK of DIGNITY." He protested, refusing to hear ANYTHING else she spewed out about his not real lack of dignity. He was NOT ready to admit it, and would never be. With a haughty scoff, he did move on. "If you HAD been chased around by raging teenage boys 99 percent of them would've ended their run with a broken nose." He snorted. No way was he ever going to let that happen. That was just weird and awful. "No- ow." He yelped as she jabbed him once more with quite a bit of force, clutching his ribs. "I've been MORTALLY WOUNDED. Call 911." He groaned, flopping back dramatically, head lolling, eyes closed. His head snapped up as she mentioned whiskey, interest in his gaze, then his eyebrows furrowed. "Uh. Yah. I doubt that ability." He pointed out. "Fluffy? Good for fainting, but fluffy?" He wrinkled his nose. His house was all hardwood flooring to make it easier to clean up spills if needed, or accidents, as he occasionally fostered a dog, trained it in the basic things, and let someone adopt it. As she kicked his leg, he jerked it back, gasping. "How DARE you." He sniffed. It didn't hurt it all, but yeesh. Violent, much? "I CAN if I WANT to." He retorted, then tried to not laugh. He didn't have to try in half a millisecond as she started naming terrible events. "I WASN'T talking about STRIPPING, Pennywise." He exclaimed. Referencing how the clown always lives in the gutter, of course. "Literally just taking off my jacket." He rolled his eyes. "You wouldn't have to throw up, I could prove I have abs, and no girls would come running. Meaning I wouldn't have to run for my life, okay?" He reassured. Good god. He huffed quietly and shook his head. "I can hold my tongue. I just don't want to." He smirked, then made a face and let his gaze flick to the remaining drunk patrons. "For one, I don't think they'd recognize me even if I shoved a newspaper article in their faces, and for two, how dare you try to get me attacked." Well, maybe not ATTACKED, but possibly trampled. "I don't like playing guitar standing- it feels weird." He complained. "And if I'm coming over for a MOVIE NIGHT I expect to be SITTING." Movie nights were supposed to be nights where you acted lazy and watched TV and ate popcorn/ice cream. "I CAN stand that long. I just don't want to." He sniffed, then nodded. "Please do. Aaaalso, could you get me a date for this movie night? I would prefer to know rather than showing up at a random time and accidentally walking in on a family gathering or something." He snorted. Axl gave her a look, staring at her with a flat gaze for a moment. "Yah, no. I'm coming." He decided. She could have fresh air when she got home. Her village was much safer than Dallas. After a moment, he coughed slightly. "Yeaaaahhhhhh, perfect gentleman." He repeated, trying to convince himself it POSSIBLY mayble could be true. His head tilted and he thought it over for a millisecond. "Well, it wouldn't be great if I got killed because your family saw us together, and it wouldn't be great if I got killed by my clan, but I don't really mind." Honestly, spending those extra mere minutes with her would be worth dying violently. That's how King Clan would kill him, anyway. If he thought there was a legitament threat, he would make sure no one messed with them. "No roof, hood, yeah. I meant no roof. I think that's what I said." He wrinkled his nose, then paused. "ummmm... windy." He tried not to grin at his amazing description. "I dunno, it's just freeing. It feels less enclosed. I've never liked small spaces, and apparently cars count as small spaces." He had always hated being in cars or trucks, so when he got his permit, he pilfered some money offa Konig and got a convertable. Later, he got his Trans Am, and when he was 23, he got the bike. Axl undid the wrapper of the bar and droppd it in the trash on the way out, feeling slightly light-headed but ignoring it. His eyes sharpened as he opened the door for her, smiling faintly. "I'm having a go at the gentleman thing, how am I doing?" He asked with a slight joking tone, then glanced around once they were outside, gaze flicking to his bike as he made sure it was okay. He started right, towards the bus stop, and stayed about a foot and a half away on her left side, near the street. |
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Hot and Dry
