this man didn't regret every single moment spent on caring for it. so, yeah, it took him by surprise to hear such declaration. he hasn't becoming attached to it, too, to hesitate.
“I only said we have to leave, not—” his frown deepened. “—think twice, did you not?”
𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦?
neither will there be a lancet scraping against his skin and left him laying unconscious, cut wide open, on the cold metal table overnight. all merely the haunting shadow of past terrors. * @unhingesight
teeth gritted, hiccup swallowed, and he tried airing out his complaint again, “get—the fuck off—I can do it myself-!”
ridiculous, it is. he should've known that there will be no needles that would follow to pierce through his veins as his paranoia is screaming at him.
!2DFess Pleasant evening, everyone. A 31-year-old, psychiatrist by day and hitwoman by night, is searching for someone to interact with. Pick a number from 1 to 10 and I’ll send you a starter, or simply repost for being a mutual. Thank you.
looking back, everything he said has always been kinda vague. sometimes easy to misunderstood, sometimes off-putting coming from a face that innocent.
“I believe the answer is clear—no, I 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 what you think.” the demanding temper resurfaced. “so hurry up.” * @unhingesight
Iker's protest didn't quite reach his ears. instead, head lifted in one quick motion and Ciarán sighed before shooting a slit-eyed half grin at the befuddled man.
“well, you won't anymore the next time they come raiding during your sleep.” indifferent was the remark, dismissive.