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"𝘼𝙩𝙩𝙖 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡," 𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙙.
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In which Gwendolyn Bird, beaten and bruised by the death of her brother, meets a dark-haired, green-eyed man in the most fateful circumstances. Except, he's holding a gun against her he...
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When most people disliked the cold that December brought, Nine enjoyed it.
Winter didn't use to be his favorite season of the four, but after the catastrophe of events that shaped him into who he is now, he couldn't bare anything besides the cold bitterness of a bleak time of year.
It was now four in the morning, the sky still dark even in the city lights, and the faint sounds of cars driving filling the freezing air.
Nine stood outside on the fire escape, leaning against the set of stairs leading to safety in the event of a fire.
A cigarette was in his hand, sitting between his fingers, representing the only warmth he could seem to handle anymore.
He wore a black band tee and grey sweatpants, socks to match, all showcasing his inability of getting sleep this night following his failure of killing Nicholas Miller yet again.
Stressed puffs of debris from his drug were decorating the stillness around him, at least until the sound of his cracked window opening interrupted his thoughts.
His sharp stare shifted beside him, where Blue was lifting up the seal of the glass before sliding her body out into the cold air with him.
She wore a jacket now, and her eyes seemed more exhausted than they had after everyone left hours ago.
"I thought I told you not to go in my room," he bit out, turning his attention back to the street behind his complex.
Blue sighed, "You did. I was returning your shirt."
So, she knew that the shirt Lucy loaned her was his. He knew it smelled like his cologne, the faint scent entering the open air with her.
Apparently, Lucy found no clean night shirts when she was sifting through Blue's clothing while she showered. All she told Nine was she was going to grab something from his room, and when Blue stepped outside of her extremely long alone time, she was wearing his shirt.
It wasn't one he particularly cared about, and the Cigarettes After Sex band tee looked better on her anyways.
Therefore, he let it slide. Just this once, he told himself.
"Then you decided that I was approachable enough to step outside of my window and join me at four in the morning?"
She nodded, and he noticed how she didn't seem up for much argument between them like they usually had.
It didn't sit right with him for some reason.
"I'm not giving you a cig--"
For the first time ever, she beat him to it, "I took one from your pack after everyone left."
She must've done it when he disappeared in his bedroom for a short time, leaving his cigarettes on the counter.
Blue stepped forward then, leaning her elbows on the railing of the escape and looking down at everything beneath them.