Graham sways on his feet slightly, his shirt button catching on his sleeve as the bottle in hand moves to and from his mouth in a steady rhythm. Alex stands next to him, they look a pair. Eyes red, bodies filled with self-prescribed poison. For balance Graham raises a hand to tug on the taller boy's jacket sleeve, he grips onto the material around Alex's elbow and tugs to grab his attention for a cigarette.
His voice is quiet as he asks for the box, Alex watches his pupils dilate as his mouth hangs open. He hands the box to Graham, taking one for himself and lighting. Alex comes first in his own eyes, no doubt about it. Without being asked, he bends down to light the younger's cigarette hanging almost daintily from the corner of his mouth. They exhale in unison, both watching a bird land on a gravestone next to where the procession of bereaved family members stand.
Graham passes the bottle into Alex's outstretched hand. "Perfect place for a winter wedding."
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Under the Westway
FanfictionGraham's name tastes like temporary, strawberry milkshakes and lime chewing gum and a vinyl player borrowed and never returned. Damon is all too familiar with pretty boys and porcelain skin, and green bruises under neon lights. Jamie plays video ga...
