Well then. You really don't want to be here, in the most awkward and uncomfortable and tense room you've ever stepped foot in, the air practically sizzling for a fight, but... well, you like Red. And you hate seeing how uncomfortable he is, even if you think that he really oughta grow a backbone and tell the fuckers off. It's his ex and the guy he left him for, right? Who punched him? Yet here he is, nice as pie. It makes your blood boil.
But you'll be nice. For now, for him, you will be perfectly civil.
For now.
They take painting, and though you're somewhat nervous about leaving them alone to their devices (and a far better artist than gardener) you begrudgingly accept your task, setting about extracting weeds from the overgrown planter. You've taken it to the open front door so you can keep a careful eye on the goings-on inside, ready to spring up at a moment's notice should the idiots decide to pull some shit, or should Red look too ill at ease.
But you'll be nice. For now, for him, you will be perfectly civil.
For now.
They take painting, and though you're somewhat nervous about leaving them alone to their devices (and a far better artist than gardener) you begrudgingly accept your task, setting about extracting weeds from the overgrown planter. You've taken it to the open front door so you can keep a careful eye on the goings-on inside, ready to spring up at a moment's notice should the idiots decide to pull some shit, or should Red look too ill at ease.
and in the sea that's painted black
creatures lurk below the deckbut you're my king and i'm your lionheart
creatures lurk below the deckbut you're my king and i'm your lionheart
