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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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It had been almost two days since Gwen and Nine had their little make out session.
And following Kite leaving to go back to bed, they swore that they would not tell anyone about what they were doing.
Both of them wanted to avoid commentary or any ridicules from the others.
But that didn't mean that it wasn't on her mind almost every passing second now. It was torture.
Unfortunately for Gwen though, Nine was gone all day yesterday. She was forced to spend the day with Kite, who attempted to cook her some food so she didn't have to stand on her leg, but ended up setting the pan he was using on fire.
So, Gwen cooked.
And Kite wasn't bad when he didn't have an attitude or a reason to be upset with her. He was definitely goofy, and sometimes too loud.
He was genuinely a nice guy despite that.
But it was Thursday now, and Nine was once again absent from their temporary living adjustment.
Supposedly, the team searching their apartment was still not done.
Hopefully tomorrow, and then she could also go to Cherry's and talk to Flynn who was being kept in that insanely boring room in the basement for the time being.
According to Kite, Damian had been thoroughly questioning him about various things.
Speaking of, "Shouldn't you be at Cherry's?"
Crab was beside her in Kite's living room, actively rolling a blunt for the two of them to smoke.
He glanced up at her, "Why?"
"To guard Flynn. I thought that was your job?"
Crab shrugged a bit, "It is. But Damian doesn't think he's going to try and escape any time soon. He and Jace have been there almost constantly."
She wondered if he knew about Jace and Damian's relationship just as Lucy had.
It made her think of what Lucy told her about not telling anyone that Jace was marked with Damian's blood though.
A chill went up her spine.
"But he made you camp outside of my door?"
He nodded, "You were adamant about leaving."
Gwen sucked in a breath, pulling her knees to her chest as she looked around the room.
Jagger was sitting on the orange chair she occupied two nights ago, licking himself to death as he typically did.
Black cat hair was beginning to litter Kite's apartment, and he said something yesterday about hiring professional cleaners just so he could stop pulling cat hair from his ass cheeks after a shower.
