Gay Chicken

Crying over spilt milk (M)

"why fall in love when you can fall apart?"

-unknown

🐔🐔🐔

Lex

Being in the serial killers house was definitely a surreal experience, and I wasn't sure if I should run for the hills or just roll with it. So I pretended to be completely comfortable taking his food, pouring myself a drink and plonking my sweet ass on his sofa - and then proceeded to get my grimy hands all over his controller and put on 'The hobbit: an unexpected journey" because 1: it was already on TV and 2: it's a fucking brilliant movie.

"Wait, did you just put on the hobbit" Michael Voorhees chimed in (that's the opposite of Jason Myers for all of you non-horror nerds out there, fucking losers) suddenly having a keen interest, he'd even stopped pouring his own bowl of cereal just to listen to my response. He's so weird. Why am I in his house again?

"Y-uh huh" I probably should have taken into account that my mouth was full of cereal before giving him a response - I probably would have saved myself the embarrassment of having milk all down my chin and on his couch. His lovely couch that's soft and warm and so much nicer than anything in the apartment - and probably costs a lot, and I've probably ruined it and now I'm thinking the word probably way too much.

But Jason is now probably going to kill me.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry. I'll clean it up, just show me where the towels are, I'll scrub it too if it stains" I'd already stood up ready to sell my soul to the devil and had pretty much started running to the kitchen where Satan inhabited. I'm a good man, I own up to my mistakes. All I know is that if I'd spilt milk at home, my dead-beat dad would have beat me with the belt - if he was still around. And Jason is much bigger than me, and all that's going through my head right now is the reminder of me as a kid covered in blood and crying over spilt milk and a whipping noise. And fuck I think I'm having a panic attack. "Lex, you goo-" Jason began but I cut him off by asking where the fucking towels are again. Can he not listen? My hands start to rummage the kitchen, shaking slightly and I forget about the milk that's still dripping down my chin. I'm just focusing on finding a towel or a sponge or just something to clean up my mistake - and I know I'm overreacting.

Alexander what the fuck is wrong with you?

Why can't you do one simple fucking task right?

You're such a cry baby, crying over spilled milk. Fucking pathetic, this is what you deserve.

Alexander Fisk - a waste of space.

"Call... Lola" I try to squeeze out in breaths, handing the serial killer my phone. It's been a while since I've had an episode like this, and the fact that's it's Infront of Myers makes it so much worse. He's going to tell everyone how pathetic I am, I've given him no reason not to, I am pathetic. Why am I panicking so much over split milk?

"Lex, I need your password" he says, his voice is soft. It's nice.

"052006" my breathing is rough and haggard but I hope he understood what I said, it also probably doesn't help that I'm facing away from him, my hands gripping hold of the kitchen counter as I try to regain control of my body.

"She's not picking up Lex" he places a hand on my back, soothing circles against the fabric of my shirt "breathe lex, I know this is uncomfortable but I'm here. You're safe"