Our Numbered Days ∥ fillie

graphic.

chapter nine.

"who the fuck calls a teen helpline service at this ungodly hour of six in the morning?!"

"...maybe someone who has deep issues or wants to take their own life? as much as i hate that horrid introduction maybe you should stick to that line when you answer, you could scare off your customers answering like a manic."

"bite me."

"someone's not a morning person."

"just now noticing that, sherlock dumbass?"

"language, millie. your boss could be─

"it's six twenty-five in the fucking morning, finnlard. i'm about to shank someone, hopefully my boss if he walks near me. maybe then i can finally go home and sleep in my warm bed!"

"is that a death threat i hear?"

"i swear i'll cut off your limbs and throw them into a fucking lion's den if you ever call me again at this ungodly hour, finnlard!"

"wow, that painted a gruesome picture in my head."

"please, you haven't seen gruesome until you've watched human centipede."

"what's that?"

"oh my poor innocent finnie, you have so many things to learn."

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if you haven't already, don't watch human centipede guys, it's really bad lmao. and don't watch it while eating.. you've been warned.