i have plenty of ideas in my head, so why not write them down?
[general, crossovers, k-pop, anime, etc]
(discontinued)
[𝚊𝚛𝚌 𝟸, 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗]
Ⓒ 2018. All Rights Reserved.
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a/n. psa warning, touchy subject towards abortion, contraceptives as well as cheating (when married, which is touchy, to me)
His anger had nearly conquered him that night.
He was lucky he had made it out of there before it could get worse. Before he could say anything that'll ruin it all.
His mind had driven the car to the one place he felt like he could feel sane and yet, in a way- insane.
The bright pink and yellow neon sign didn't flicker once, as he stood underneath it. Like it didn't even acknowledge his existence like it knew he was going to come here anyway. Like he always does when this happens.
Molly's Bar.
"Hey Griffin didn't think you'd come today," the petite brunette across the bar smiled as she cleaned an empty glass.
"How's the wife?"
"Don't ask about the wife," he responded bitterly, something beginning to block the back of his throat.
"I'm guessing you want strong tonight?"
"Quickly would be nice," he breathed. He took out the sleek car keys from his back pocket and passed it to the bar owner, along with his phone. He didn't want to make any accidents today. It seemed like he had already caused many.
In a minute or so, a tall glass of a club soda was passed to him on a coaster. The jazz music in the background had suddenly intensified as it was passed to him. Taunting him to take a big long sip.
He downed it one go, the burning taste was practically unfelt, the jazz music felt dull.
"Woah there, Griff, take it slow. This bar may get visits from doctors but they come here off duty," Molly grimaced.
"One more," he pressed the glass down on the coaster and looked up at the green eyes of his server. "Just keep filling it."
"Griffin-"
"I pay you for a drink, not for therapy," he snapped. Molly gave him a side eye, but he ignored it.
When his next glass arrived, he was slower this time. Slightly regretting his words towards sweet Molly, but slightly angry at her nosiness.
"Scotch please- no make it a whiskey."
"You know what, vodka. Just get me a vodka."
A blonde, face covered in light makeup, wavy hair let free and a silver dress sat next to him at the bar. He realized he was staring, and she did too.
"What?" she asked, a scowl on her face.
"Nothing," he moved his eyes away and took a long swig, "vodka's pretty strong. Rough day, I assume?"
