Now I know there's no one I can trust - I used to think there was
you can tell me that I'm cutthroat but I think you've got your eyes closed
you can tell me that I'm cutthroat but I think you've got your eyes closed
Alright, so not totally a dog - apparently it's half fuckin' dragon too. One more weird thing to come to terms with. "If she can stand my brother, she can hopefully stand me," he chuckles, scuffing his socked foot against the hardwood. "Though I'll admit, 'm worse than him in a lotta ways. I'll hafta invest in shin guards for her." He's not looking to get his kneecaps chewed on just because he's a self-admitted asshole.
A critical gaze is pinned on Sunjata, the words not quite giving him what he had been hoping to unearth. "Yeah, he's always been a rebellious fucker 'bout that." To the point that it killed him. That certainly hadn't helped Bart on his own journey of self-discovery. If he even dares to glance at the shadow in the closet long enough to even deem it worthy a journey at all. "He's...safe here, right?" Eyes narrow into slits, and Bartholomew sits a little straighter from his lounge, tension running across narrow shoulders. He's knocked out more than enough teeth on his brother's behalf - not to mention all the other attention being a nurse in his particular ward had to deal with after Nate had passed. If this place has fire-breathing dogs, he fucking hopes it's at least missing the homophobia. "Like, is it accepted?" Some places had been a lot more liberal even outside the states, but he isn't sure how hopeful he should be.
A scarred hand waves away the apology like it's smoke, wrist loose and motion careless. "Nah, makes sense when I see where you were comin' from. And if I had stolen it, ya woulda been in yer right to zap me," Bart tosses back with a lopsided grin that makes him seem much younger than his years. He'd never fully outgrown the puppy face he'd been born with. It had definitely gotten him out of some sticky situations too. "Though I bet I rock it better than Nate, even if it was his first." A lie if he's ever said one. He's far too narrow and lithe to fill it out, and his face isn't as angular and tragically handsome. Bart doesn't care too much though, it's a sentimental piece.
A critical gaze is pinned on Sunjata, the words not quite giving him what he had been hoping to unearth. "Yeah, he's always been a rebellious fucker 'bout that." To the point that it killed him. That certainly hadn't helped Bart on his own journey of self-discovery. If he even dares to glance at the shadow in the closet long enough to even deem it worthy a journey at all. "He's...safe here, right?" Eyes narrow into slits, and Bartholomew sits a little straighter from his lounge, tension running across narrow shoulders. He's knocked out more than enough teeth on his brother's behalf - not to mention all the other attention being a nurse in his particular ward had to deal with after Nate had passed. If this place has fire-breathing dogs, he fucking hopes it's at least missing the homophobia. "Like, is it accepted?" Some places had been a lot more liberal even outside the states, but he isn't sure how hopeful he should be.
A scarred hand waves away the apology like it's smoke, wrist loose and motion careless. "Nah, makes sense when I see where you were comin' from. And if I had stolen it, ya woulda been in yer right to zap me," Bart tosses back with a lopsided grin that makes him seem much younger than his years. He'd never fully outgrown the puppy face he'd been born with. It had definitely gotten him out of some sticky situations too. "Though I bet I rock it better than Nate, even if it was his first." A lie if he's ever said one. He's far too narrow and lithe to fill it out, and his face isn't as angular and tragically handsome. Bart doesn't care too much though, it's a sentimental piece.
Feel the fear and swallow back the tears
let weakness disappear
let weakness disappear
BARTHOLOMEW
